


Distract and Sedate

by eliae



Category: Hemlock Grove
Genre: Abuse, Blood Magic, Childhood Memories, Drug Addiction, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovered Memories, Recovery, Violent Thoughts, Witchcraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2020-11-01 07:09:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 109,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20811104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eliae/pseuds/eliae
Summary: | SEQUEL TO BURY A FRIEND | Strange creature are born and nurtured several floors under the white tower. Even stranger people in masks terrorize the world above ground. All the while two faces, one old and one new, threaten what stability Roman and Emma have found in their lives.





	1. Intro

_ _

_The lazy mist hangs from the brow of the hill,_   
_ Concealing the course of the dark-winding rill._   
_ How languid the scenes, late so sprightly, appear!_   
_ As Autumn to Winter resigns the pale year!_

_The forests are leafless, the meadows are brown,_   
_ And all the gay foppery of summer is flown:_   
_ Apart let me wander, apart let me muse,_   
_ How quick Time is flying, how keen Fate pursues!_

_How long I have liv'd - but how much liv'd in vain,_   
_ How little of life's scanty span may remain!_   
_ What aspects old Time in his progress has worn!_   
_ What ties cruel Fate, in my bosom has torn!_

_How foolish, or worse, till our summit is gain'd!_   
_ And downward, how weaken'd, how darken'd, how pain'd!_   
_ Life is not worth having with all it can give:_   
_ For something beyond it poor man, sure, must live._

_The Fall of the Leaf (1788)_

**A constantly evolving list of songs I really bopped out to while writing this:**

Trainwreck - Banks

Landfill - Daughter

July - Noah Cyrus

Sedated - Hozier (also title source)

Love Song - Lana Del Rey

Lovesick - Banks

Poltergeist - Banks


	2. July

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up: long ass authors note at the end

"Mr. Godfrey," a voice calls over the intercom. Roman looks up from the papers scattered on his desk, angry at the interruption. "You have a visitor."

"Do they have an appointment?" Roman asks stoicly. His receptionist was terribly incompetent, but it was his third one of the summer. HR was beginning to keep an eye on him, although there wasn't much they could do.

"Uh... yeah?" The receptionist sounds hesitant. Gripping his fist tight, Roman takes a deep breath before becoming too annoyed.

"Fine."

In a matter of seconds, there's a knock on the door. His receptionist comes in and holds it open. Emma comes in, one crossed across her body, the other offering a small wave. "Hey," he looks surprised. "You don't have an appointment."

"Do I need one?"

"Yes, but I guess I can make an exception," he smiles. 

"You look very adult," she looks him over and takes a seat across from him. "Boy-wonder, huh?"

"I don't feel very adult," he admits. "How's school?"

"It hasn't started yet. I go for orientation next week?" She laughs confused at what he's said.

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's school. It starts in the fall, ends in the spring, you get a summer off. You've been doing it for thirteen years."

"I guess- yeah... Sorry. Well, what have you been doing? Where have you been?"

"I've been here."

"Here? Hemlock? No," he shakes his head. There's no way she'd been here this whole time, he would have seen her.

"Yeah, maybe if you answered my texts or called me back you'd know." There it is. He realizes that's why she came.

"My mother died," Roman clicks his tongue and puts his elbows on his desk. Clasping his hands together he looks almost intimidating. Almost.

"I know. I had assumed you'd want to celebrate but I guess I was wrong."

"Emma."

"It's fine. You're busy running a company, going to Maui... I just wanted to say goodbye before I left."

"How'd you- Anna?" Emma nods.

"I stopped by when you stopped responding," she bites her bottom lip. "I like that your new house says 'home' on the outside of it. Just to make sure we know it's a home, huh?" She laughs nervously but he doesn't budge. "Sorry, I was concerned."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ignore you."

"You weren't ignoring me, you were avoiding me," Emma corrects him.

"Aren't those the same things?" She shakes her head. "Look, I don't know how to handle things, okay?"

"How many times are we going to say that to each other?"

"Probably until we know how to handle things," he shrugs and looks back down to his papers.

"Well, I just wanted to say goodbye before I left. Sooo, goodbye," she stands from her chair awkwardly. 

"Em, wait!" He calls out to her. "We can go get lunch or something, I'm sorry."

"No, no," she shakes her head and backs away. "I'd hate to take up more of your valuable time,  _ Mr. Godfrey _ . I've got to get packed anyways," she turns to leave but hesitates. "Sit up straight. You'll ruin your posture."

At home, Emma's room looks almost perfect except for the three suitcases packed tightly by her door. She didn't have a whole lot she wanted to bring with her and it was too soon for all her bulky winter items. Most things were going to be left behind in Hemlock Grove.

It had been a quiet summer. After Roman moved out, things went limp on his end for the most part. She assumed he was busy. There was taking over the company, and the settling of finances, and a plethora of other legal things Emma wouldn't even pretend to understand. 

Then there was the news about Olivia. The official story was health problems, but Emma knew better. Something strange had happened but it didn't matter. She waited to see if he would reach out before she did. Was it possible that he was sad over it? Maybe. She never found out because he never told her.

But she needed to talk to him. After the vargulf had been killed her dreams stopped. Roman had told her everything that had happened that night, about the look on Christina Wendall's face when she realized it was too late. It took until the next full moon for either of them to question what Destiny's predictions had meant- if anything. Without the vargulf to remind her, she let the worry slip away.

When Roman left the nightmares came back. This time only two played over in her mind. The room was exactly like she remembered it. The mill was new. It was so realistic, she could even smell the scent of mold and rust on the walls and ceiling. She's sure she's just remembering the events from the vivid descriptions Roman gave her, but it feels like she is him. She can feel the fear and horror in his gut as Peter smears her blood on his face followed by the bacon grease.

The first time she awakes sweating and nauseous with a stinging in the bridge of her nose. She wonders if he has dreams of her story. If he awakes with the sound of metal hitting bone and blood overflowing and bubbling into Chasseurs mouth. If the feeling of his mother's cold hand touching her skin gives him shivers.

When her mother had found out that she had been "accepted" she cried. And while Emma was happy to go, she had spent quite a bit of time worrying about leaving Roman. He didn't have anyone here other than his uncle- but since Letha's death, Norman had been fading away.

Roman didn't want her around she decided. And if he did, he knew where to find her. 

Packing her necessitates into boxes and loading them into her mothers' car left a strange taste in her mouth. Was this really everything? Her whole life broken down into a couple of boxes and suitcases. 

**Okay first off I made a meme of me writing this book:**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second off: Thank you guys for waiting over my break. I was feeling pretty burnt out at the end of BaF and it felt like any time I tried to write is fizzled away.
> 
> Warning for the book: This book will, like the last one, contain a lot of mature themes and content. Some material might be triggering. To prevent spoilers I won't be doing trigger warnings. If you have any concerns or want a heads up please message me and I'm happy to let you know privately when a chapter contains triggers.
> 
> I'm not sure how graphic things will be. It kind of depends on what you guys want and what I can write. For sure, it will be no more graphic than the TV show was in terms of violence and sex. Any opinions? Should I move on from wine to hard liquors?


	3. Call Me

**Philadelphia **

Emma had been in communication with her roommate over the summer. Jules' was from Indiana and, like Emma, was a scholarship kid. Of course, Jules had a real scholarship and Emma's was really just money Roman funneled to her under the guise of a scholarship.

The dorms on campus were all pretty old and didn't have a standard layout. Neither of the girls had really prepared any decorations and it all looked a little sad upon arrival. Jules' parents were there and everyone said their hello's and goodbyes. Orientation was a drag filled with walking back and forth from building to building and registering for classes.

She had snagged a pretty sweet schedule. Nothing to early and only one night class. There wasn't much freedom in what to take. With her major already figured out, she had required classes and her general education and it only left room for one elective. She felt a little silly registering for it, but how could she turn down an anthropology class titled: Gods, Witches, and Monsters.

It probably was a waste of a credit hour, but she couldn't help herself.

Once classes start Emma thinks about how nice a year at home would have been. She could never quite escape exhaustion. It was a permanent fixture in her life that caffeine and some snagged Adderall could sedate only a little.

It's lonely. That's the first big realization Emma had about being at school. It seemed like everyone else was having an easy time adjusting, but she felt stalled. Maybe it was that living in a small town made it hard for her to meet new people, but it seemed unlikely. Jules, on the other hand, turned out to be a social butterfly. She was joining a sorority and already had made friends in the building. She seemed like the kind of girl that could juggle a million things at once and never drop them. Emma's not so graceful. She's thankful, however, for her roommates social skills and kindness to introduce her to people.

The first week after orientation she had made her way to all sorts of "ice breaker" events to meet people. The second week she chooses to avoid any more attempts at forced socialization. Classes where already overwhelming enough, she didn't need any more pressure on her. It was only the first week and she already had 60 pages of reading due for her history class.

She sits through her gen-eds with as much interest as possible. There's something that changed in her last year that has lingered on to know. It's possible that Roman was wrong, maybe she wouldn't have gotten in even if things had been different. She feels rather inadequate sitting through her chemistry lecture. But she's trying. Trying really fucking hard.

Unlike what movies and TV shows had convinced her, fakes IDs were hard to find. Even harder were bars that didn't ID. The only place to go on a Friday night was a frat house or Maggie Patton's dorm on the 4th floor. She was the only one of them with a fake.

The girls were pretty quiet, sipping straight from either beer or vodka bottles. They're all on their phones, either texting ex's or looking for someone to text on Tinder. Of everything listed above, Emma was the latter. Every couple of swipes she would ask one of the other girls "Is he cute or am I drunk?"

"You're drunk," Maggie's roommate, Hope, laughs. "Where did you say you were from again? Is this what the boys look like there?"

"Hemlock Grove."

"Never heard of it," Hope says after scanning her brain.

"Oh, I have," Maggie peeps in. "Dalton was telling me the other day about the new lab they're building. The company is there. It's the... the..."

"Godfrey," Emma tells her.

"Yeah, that's it!" Maggie looks relieved. "The dude that runs it is like our age or something. Dalton is fucking in love with him, I swear. Did you know him?"

"We went to high school together." Emma takes a drink. Was this what life was going to be for her? Was she always destined to have to talk about Roman? She wasn't particularly in the mood to elaborate more than she had. If people started connecting the dots it wouldn't look too good for her.

"Just looked him up," Jules says from behind her phone. "He's like _really fucking hot._"

"Let me see," Hope holds her hand out. "Oh shit what's up. You got his number, Em?" Emma had tried to move on, returning back to her tinder. Her face turns a bit red at her question.

"No."

"Aw, why are you blushing?" Maggie teases.

"I'm not," she stays stern. "He's an asshole, he didn't really have friends or anything." When Emma looks back down at her phone the three girls in the room share a look of confusion and amusement. "What about this guy? Is he cute?"

"Okay, I actually think he might be cute," Hope laughs, peaking over her shoulder to see the screen.

"You sure?" Emma asks.

"Jules, double-check this for me!" Jules crawls behind Emma to look at her phone.

"He's cute," she approves. Emma swipes right and gets alerted of the match.

"Should I message him?"

"No, let him message you first," Maggie says. Emma nods and waits.

When ten minutes have gone by and there's still nothing, she gets herself another drink. All the other girls seem to be laughing and enjoying themselves, but she feels far away from it all. Like it's in echos and underwater. Her own thoughts are on a track, running around and running around, unable to escape. _Why the fuck won't this guy message her? _She's at least average looking and can hold a normal conversation. That should be enough.

And when that first thought enters it's followed by a million more negative thoughts. Topics range greatly but they're all destructive in their own right. The floodgates are wide open. Spinning, spinning, spinning. Over and over in her mind. Standing abruptly, and swaying a bit she walks towards the door. "Em- Em!" Maggie calls out after her. "Where are you going?"

"I'm not feeling so well," she looks around. "I'm gonna head to bed I think."

"Are you okay? Do you want me to come with you?" Jules asks.

"No, no, I'm fine. It's just a headache. Just going to lay down for the night."

She makes it through the brightly lit hallways and down two flights of stairs. Once she is safely locked inside her dorm she sits on her bed and pulls at her hair. "Stop it, stop it," she tells herself. When her mind has slowed down she changes into some pajamas and turns the overhead light off. With only her lamp and computer lighting the room she feels a bit more relaxed.

A shiver runs down her back, like the feeling of being watched. Looking around the room, she's absolutely sure she's alone. There's nowhere to hide in such a small space. Cracking the window shade open, she peers outside. There's a group of guys smoking on the sidewalk, two girls walking home from a party, someone on a bike, and a person with a mask on. Or at least she could have sworn she saw someone outside wearing a white mask. One blink and they're gone so fast she's not sure anymore.

Shaking it off and climbing into bed, she's thankful that Jules didn't want to come back. It's so hard to get peace and quiet around here. Drunk and a little sad, she lets it out. She's homesick. She misses her mom and her cat, she misses having her own room, she misses her sheets, and she misses Roman.

The campus is hauntingly empty on Saturday morning. Everyone was either hungover and stuck in bed or home for the weekend. Emma had tried to wake Jules up for breakfast, but the girl wouldn't budge. She was in the former group.

Emma's own head pounded, but not from a hangover. It had been a difficult night. Sleep wouldn't find her and when it did it was not a deep rest. She doesn't remember what she dreamt, only that if left her stomach heavy and anxious in the morning. It had to be different from her normal nightmares. She always remembered them.

She had intended to get up and study or work on a paper, but the feeling wouldn't go away. Something felt off. The dark clouds make for a perfect day to do nothing. She decides to stay in bed and watch TV until she falls back asleep. When she wakes back up it's dark outside and Jules is gone.

Checking her phone, her mom texted her a picture of her cat, and Maggie asked if she was feeling better. She makes a mental note to call her mom later.

** Hemlock Grove **

It had been on his mind nonstop for a week. Her face was covered in confusion and betrayal. The truth was that she was right. He absolutely had been avoiding her, dodging calls, telling his housekeeper to tell her he wasn't home. It was harsh but necessary. It was nothing personal.

The summer really had been busy for him. There was a seemingly endless stream of papers to sign, shareholders to meet, and then there were personal matters to attend to...

He had spent the summer working with Pryce on a way to cover the still healing scars on his arms. With a bit of hassling and a lot of money, he was able to utilize stem cells to rebuild the skin. It's almost like it never happened. Almost.

Now, Roman sits at the head of a large conference table. They're going over the budget for a third time this week. His investors have made it clear over the past couple of months that they didn't trust a recently turned 19-year-old boy to run a company. They were incompetent. If Olivia could do this a baby could.

He'd worked his ass off, though. He wanted to show that just because he was young didn't mean he was stupid. And he wanted to remind them who signed their checks. He takes a mental picture of their faces when he talks about his trip to Maui. He wasn't leading to anything by sharing his sexual experience but he was proving a point.

This was _his_ company.

That's why when he asked about a decent chunk of money being spent on "miscellaneous" he wasn't too happy with the answer. Who at this company could possibly tell him no? Or tell him he wouldn't understand? He releases the men from the meeting but calls for Dr. Johann Pryce to stay back.

"What's all of this money going to, Pryce?" Roman pushes again.

"I told you. You'd need-"

"An advanced degree in blah, blah, blah." He rolls his eyes. "What is it, Pryce?"

"Roman, I need you to let me do my work. I give you my word that it is important, but it is top secret."

"This is my company."

"And this is my project," Pryce quips back.

"Cut funding by 30%," Roman demands.

"I can make do with a 10% cut, but no more."

"Fine," Roman nods. "Find a way to explain it to me before I change my mind."

He worked long days, usually taking more time than he should complete basic tasks. He was disinterested in most of it. The paperwork, the signing, the meeting with investors and board members, it was all exhausting. He hated it but he wouldn't change it for the world. This was the company his father had built and now it was his.

He had bought himself a brand new Ferrari because he could. He impulsively took a vacation to Maui because he could. There were so many things he could do because of his status. But there was nothing he really _wanted _to do.

Sometimes all he wanted to do was go back to the time after the vargulf but before Letha died. Roman couldn't even bring himself to say her name. It was buried in the vast void of self-hatred and self-pity. Her name reminded him of a very slim moment in time he saw a future for himself he liked.

It made not strangling Norman ever time he popped up somewhere unexpected even harder. While Roman was trying to push the memory of her as far away as possible, all Norman could do was wallow in it. Roman refused to drown in it any further than he already had. And his lungs were damn near filled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Hi friends!!! I just wanted to once again say how fucking grateful I am for every single one of you!!! I also wanted to give a bit of a heads up that the first couple of chapters are mainly going to take place before when season 2 "starts." Like when Peter comes back and stuff.


	4. Reckless Youth

** \- Philadelphia -  **

"Let's gooooo!" A voice calls from the other side of the door. It's followed by a long string of knocks. Emma yanks the door open mid-knock. She's met by Maggie, Hope, and a third girl she doesn't know.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" She turns back around to put on her shoes. Jules has an eyelash curler in her hands and rushes to finish her makeup. They uber to the edge of campus and towards a frat house that Emma had never heard of. Inside, it was different from what TV shows had convinced her it would be like.

Jules pulls her around introducing her to people and grabbing them drinks. The other girls have disappeared into a crowd. After two or three drinks, she lets Jules drag her into dancing. If it could even be considered dancing. She tries to stay with her friend, dancing with each other instead of guys.

Parties back home were very different from this. With the exception of a few girls here and there from a county over, everyone knew everyone. The same couples always fought, the same girls always cried, the same guy always passed out too early. Here everyone was a stranger.

It kept her a bit on edge. Even with a drink in hand, she glanced around from time to time to see who was around her. As the weight of the drink declined, so did the number of glances.

It's a chance that both of their heads turn at the same time. They meet each other's eyes across the room. She gives him a soft smile before turning her attention back to Jules. She hadn't expected him to make his way through the crowd to approach her.

"Hey," he slides next to her. He's tall, slightly taller than Roman. He's goofy looking but in a cute way. He doesn't look like he belongs in this sweaty room and she likes that.

"Hey," she shouts over the loud music.

"I'm Jack!"

"Emma."

"It's nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you too," she laughs.

"Do you want to dance?" She has to read his lips to fully understand him. Her ears would ring in the morning from the loud music and potential hangover.

"I'm not very good!" She admits.

"Good!" He calls out. "Me either!"

And he is not. It's almost laughable how little rhythm he has. By the time her cup is empty, they are both laughing at him.

"Do you wanna go outside?" He asks. Emma looks around for Jules's approval but she is long gone.

"Yeah, okay," she says and follows behind him. Outside it's chilly but the cold it welcomed on glistening skin. There are a handful of others outside smoking or cooling down. She follows him to take a seat on the brick ledge below the porch.

"Where are you from?" He asks, his breath visible in the air.

"A couple of hours away. Hemlock Grove," she tells him. Her skin is finally drying and her clothes feel lighter. "You?"

"I'm actually from Arizona."

"This weather must be quite a shock to you," she jokes.

"Not yet, but the winter is going to kill me," he runs his fingers through his tussled hair. "You wanna grab another drink?"

"Yeah," Emma smiles. Inside, Jack tracks down one of his friends for a few beers they had hidden and he hands her one. They hang around an make small talk until someone finally has liquor. Once they're sufficiently under the influence they go back to dancing.

By the way his arms fly around freely it's pretty obvious he's as drunk as she is. Emma's feet feel like cement blocks and the rest of her legs sway. When she closes her eyes and thinks she has about two seconds of clarity before saying fuck all and returning back to the world. It spins and spins.

The feeling of his clammy hands on the back of her neck isn't a surprise. She'd been expecting it to come and any moment. He leans in for a drunkenly messy kiss. A few minutes later a hand taps his shoulder. "We gotta go, Lily needs a ride."

"But..." She hears him mumble and give a slight nod back to her.

"Get her number?"

"You have made my night so fucking amazing," he turns to her and kisses her quickly again. She laughs at how easy he was to please. All she had to do was kiss and dance with him, back home the guys expected way more than that. It's clear that he's a bit nerdy and has probably only had a handful of romantic instances in his life. It's kind of endearing to her.

"We gotta go," his friend grabs his shoulder again. "She can come, but we gotta go."

"You wanna come?" Emma thinks it over, unsure of if it's safe to go or if she even cares if it's safe.

"Yeah," she agrees. "Let's go."

Back in this kid's dorm, she has to take the lead on everything. He's shy at touching her, only roaming when she pulls him there. Emma almost asks if he's a virgin, but figures he'd tell her if he wanted her to know. It's not really her business.

It's the wee hours of the morning when she's putting her clothes back on walking quietly out of the dorm. The only other people out at this hour are the ones doing their own walk of shame. But she doesn't feel ashamed, just lonely.

Hooking up was fine and it felt good in the moment. But now as she sneaks into her dorm to grab a towel and clean clothes, it's not so enjoyable. It's fucking cold outside and her feet hurt. She wishes that she had someone to stay in bed with and not have to leave before an awkward conversation occurs.

There was nothing comforting in the showers of the dorm. Only thin curtains and shabby stall walls separating them. The sound of other girl's water and shaving cream cans into the barren tile room. It echoes coldly onto the concrete floors and overpowers what little private Emma felt she might have. The water never quite got hot enough and the air was always cold. It made showering a dread.

On days like today, she wishes she would have stayed home. Or that she would had a private room. Instead, she buries herself back under her covers and watches a movie on her laptop with a pair of headphones turned up high. Jules has her essential oils diffuser going and even though she's not alone it is quite peaceful.

** \- Hemlock Grove - **

Roman's spent an entire day at work feeling disassociated from the world. Dizzy and sick, sweat pouring from every area of his body. He was thirsty. So thirsty.

He speeds home and almost breaks the lock trying to get in. Not even shutting it behind him, he struggles to not run to the fridge and drink what little supply he has left. He's a fucking mess, waisted blood stains his chin and shirt.

His thirst has been satiated, but he wants more.

Roman left his house with the intention of getting more. Finding someone- anyone to fix it. Walking through the busy nightlife streets, he peaks down every ally for some drunk- someone who wouldn't be missed. When he finally finds a homeless man asleep on the cold ground, he can't bring himself to do it.

He goes to a bar to drink the thoughts away. One shot, two shots, three shots, a cigarette, and one more shot later he's relaxed a tiny bit. Now, he sits at the edge of the bar away from all the liveliness. He sips on his whiskey and glances up at whatever college football game is on.

He likes to fuck, it distracts him from how thirsty he really is. He had told everyone at the meeting about the girl in Maui. He didn't tell them how it ended with her neck ripped out. It had been an accident. He made a promise to himself that night to never do it again. He makes that promise again after every time he breaks it.

Two girls, friends he guesses, keep making eyes at him. He gives him a smile and a nod before drinking again. He can see right through their little script. They'll both giggle and whisper to each other while their other friends don't see.  _ No, you go talk to him.  _ Then-  _ No you. _

They were the kind of girls that could pick out a Prada suit from a crowd. He didn't judge their hustle one bit. If the tables were turned he might even do the same. He finishes his drink before approaching them. "Can I help you, ladies?" They giggle.

"Who do you think is prettier?" One of them boldly asks.

"Well," he smirks. "I don't like to pick favorites. It's just a shame, my car's only a two seater."

"We can make it work," the redhead says quickly.

He takes them to a shitty motel, not caring what the desk attendant thought. Honestly, the guy was probably jealous. He leaves them there, quickly getting dressed again before he does something he'll regret. These girls had people who would miss them.

** \- Philidelphia - **

"Hey, Jules," Emma calls from her desk as organizing some note cards. "Do you have any free time before you leave this week?"

"Yeah, what's up?" Jules asks from her bed where she's reading.

"My mom's mailing me some of my winter stuff since I'm not going home until Thanksgiving. Could you possibly give me a ride to the post office? I just really don't want to carry it across campus."

"Yeah, for sure. I think I'm leaving that Thursday night, but if it's storming like they're saying it will I might hold out for the morning."

"I would too," Emma nods. "Mom said it'll be here by Wednesday so just whenever your free would be amazing."

"What're you going to do while I'm gone?"

"Enjoy some goddamn peace a quiet," she jokes. "I'll probably get ahead on this genealogy project I have to do."

"Genealogy?"

"It's for my Anthropology class."

"Your Harry Potter class?"

"Yeah, my Harry Potter class," Emma rolls her eyes. "No, I have to do like a family tree and talk about myths and folklore and shit from where we're from. Which is cool because I like don't know my family very well."

"Not to downplay what you're going through, but nowadays I think most people are in the same boat."

"Oh, I'm not like  _ going through  _ anything over it. It's just that I'm stuck doing everything on the Celts. Like what if my dad was Scandinavian? Then I could talk about the Vikings and shit. All I have is the goddamn loch ness monster."

"There's a lot of cool lore from that area, just do some research."

"Where's your family from?"

"Boston," Jules jests, Emma crosses her arms dramatically. "My family is from Germany. Dad's cousin was at the Berlin wall and shit."

"Yo, that's pretty badass."

"Yeah, I guess," Jules shrugs.

"Can I steal your family tree? Or just your family in general?"

"I don't know that your mom would be cool with that," she laughs.

"Okay. One set of grandparents?"

"You can have my dead grandparents." Emma scrunches her face at that.

"Never mind. I'll pass."

** \- Hemlock Grove -  **

Roman sits at his desk. His fingers tap anxiously as he looks out the big windows. Sometimes he wonders how the fuck his father had gotten them this far. A tower looking out into the vast nothingness of a small-town in Pennsylvania. Of course, Hemlock Grove grew more and more each year.

The Institute was expanding, and other companies had begun seriously looking into opening facilities in the town. Just a few months ago a healthcare data platform company opened their new offices on the other side of town. It was microscopic in comparison to the Institute, only 45 or so employees, but it turned more eyes towards the city. Everyone wanted to tap into his father's legacy.

It only heightened his belief that J.R. Godfrey was a great man- a visionary. Someone who took a dead-end rustbelt town and brought it to the forefront of the medical research world. A world Roman knew nothing about.

When he took over the company a board member congratulated him. He said that he knew Roman would be just like his father. That he was born to do this- raised to do this. Roman had swallowed hard and thanked the man for his kind words. Lies. All lies.

His mother had never planned on really letting Roman take over. He knew that she didn't want him to. Despite knowing the clock ticked down until the inevitable happened, she had taught him nothing. Had made no attempt to prepare him for the future. He knew she had hoped he'd keep her around and let her make decisions while he was the face of the company. Roman Godfrey, 19, boy wonder.

He'd rather cut out his own tongue than admit it, but sometimes he lies awake terrified to go to work in the morning. Roman put on a good front, he looked narcissistic and cold. Well, more narcissistic and colder than he really was. Deep down he knew he didn't know what he was doing. He knew that he wasn't ready.

He goes to work every day, comes home to eat a dinner Anna had made him, drinks a glass of wine and reads a chapter or two of a book then turns in for the nights. That's his routine Monday through Friday. In those moments he feels like an old man, not a 19 year old kid.

On Friday night he escapes for a while. He likes to drive a town or two over, away from all the girls he knew in high school, and go to a bar or club. It depended on his mood. It had never taken him much effort to find a girl, more often than not they found him. He had one girl that he often came back to.

They didn't talk, he didn't know anything about her other than her name was Paige (or that's what she told him). He didn't care if she lied about what her name was, he didn't even need to know her name. All he knew was she was pretty enough and down for almost anything anytime.

He doesn't realize that he's lonely. It's not like he ever was really into socializing. There was never a need for friends, and now there's no time for them. Being Olivia Godfrey's son had kept him seperated his whole life. It was harder now that he views himself that way. He's not human, not fully anyways.

Pryce is the only person he's able to speak about it with. Even then it's only to ask him to cover up his messes. The temptation to visit Destiny often overwhelmed his mind. She had known. She had known all along and never told him. Would he have believed her if she did?

On a cold Wednesday morning, Roman goes straight to his office without making eye contact. He sits at his desk pretending to be emerged in spreadsheets and charts. His eyes blur the papers and his hands shaking prevent him from holding them still. The parasite in him is raging and desperate for something. Anything.

Roman stands from his desk and trudges to the elevator. Pressing his security code, he descends down the tower and deep below ground. It takes another authorization to get into the labs. "Mr. Godfrey," a pleasant female voice greets him. He blinks slowly before turning towards her. "Do you need something?"

"Pryce," he demands. "I need Pryce."

"Right away," she squeaks and sits back down. He paces and zones out her voice speaking into the phone. The white door behind the desk opens and the doctor comes out.

"Roman," he smiles. "To what do I owe this pleasure." Roman huffs and Pryce straightens up quickly. "Come back."

He leads him down a hallway and into a small examination room. Roman lays back on the table and covers his head with his hands. "I don't know what to do," he admits.

"Well," Pryce thinks. "I can supply you with a  _ transfusion _ , it should get you through a week or so."

"Then what?" Roman frowns. "Then what?" He pushes.

"I'm not sure."

"What did you do for Olivia? What did she do?"

"Roman," Pryce sighs. "You don't want to know."

** \- Philadelphia -  **

The only class Emma genuinely found herself excited to go to was her Anthropology class. They were still in ancient beliefs, but after mid-terms, they would be progressing to a more modern time. She tended to keep her opinions to herself, falling into the back of the room. Knowing what she knows now, other's opinions are more interesting.

Her professor was younger than most of the others. Dr. Lowenstien was probably in his mid 30's and was really cool. He talked like a normal person and sat on a stool to lead a discussion. There was never a boring moment, he seemed to know everything, every detail. He expected nothing less than his student's full attention, which wasn't hard given how interesting he made it.

They had just finished their section on Egypt and Mesopotamia. Emma went into the course excited to learn about more contemporary monsters like werewolves. Now, she had found herself deeply intrigued by the earliest humans' fears and beliefs. They weren't that different from todays.

The last day of classes before fall break is mostly mid-term prep. Even though she'd like to go home, at least she can spend the week studying without distractions. Jules had driven her to the post office to pick up the box of clothing Kay sent her. When she gets back from her last class of the day, she sits on the floor unfolding the sweaters.

They smell like home and stops to sniff every one.

Her mom had even managed to pack in a few things from her room to put in her dorm. Just a few photos of her with people she barely talks to. Those go in a box below her bed. There are a few other knick-knacks to decorate her half of the room with. It feels a bit homier when she finishes.

Emma crawls over her bed to her dresser to grab a bag of chips. Everybody else was getting a break, so why couldn't she? It wasn't like taking a day or two to relax would kill her. She'd still have plenty of time to work before classes started back. She spends an hour scrolling through different TV shows and movies and not finding anything to watch.

In her boredom, she decides to go out for a bit. She hadn't taken the time since school started to explore the city. On a whim, she goes to a contemporary art museum. She stays, walking back to her favorite pieces a few times until they're almost closed. She takes her time on her way back to her dorm. The sunset is stunning, the other direction is gray and dark. She grabs a tea from a coffee shop puts in her headphones for the wrest of the walk.

As she approaches the door to her building, a chilly wind has started to kick in.

It wasn't storming, though, so seeing the light peak out from under the door surprises her. Jules had planned on leaving unless the rain came. With a head shake, she ignores it. She unlocks the door and begins unbuttoning her jacket as she kicks it open.

"Hey Jules," she says coming into the room "What are you doing here?"

"Hey."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my favorite piece of work, but i needed to get it out? Meh.


	5. Cursed

"What are you doing here?" She pants, still trying to regulate her heart beating. Roman looks her up and down.

"I was in town for business, thought I'd come say hi."

"You couldn't text first?"

"I like scaring you," he chuckles.

"Well, mission accomplished," she rubs the back of her neck. "What..." Emma blinks, making sure he's still there. "_Why _are you here?"

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Yeah?" She chuckles uncomfortably. After hanging her coat up on the door hook, she takes a seat at her desk. "Couldn't just call or text?"

"I wasn't sure you'd answer."

"Have I ever not?" He shrugs knowing she's right. "Coming all the way to Philly is a bit... extreme?"

"Well, like I said... I was here for a meeting and I wanted to just see how you were doing- what you were up to," he explains.

"Just school. Same shit as always," she tells with furrowed brows and confused eyes.

"You wanna go to this dinner thing with me tomorrow?" He asks rather abruptly.

"What?" She shakes her head and blinks.

"I have a dinner to go to. Do you want to go?"

"I don't know, Roman-" Emma looks around the room for something to focus her attention on. This is weird. Even by Roman's standards this is weird. 

"Come on, aren't you college kids always complaining about bad food?"

"Fine, but we're getting appetizers... and deserts!" She gives in knowing that even if she didn't want to go he'd talk her into it. And she does kinda sorta want to go. She wants to hear him out.

"I'm sure they will both be served," he chuckles.

"This isn't a normal dinner is it?" He shakes his head. "Is this some dumb gala?" He nods slowly.

"I'll get someone to bring you a dress or a pantsuit or something."

"You don't like my clothes?" She jokes.

"No, they're fine," he pauses. A personal stylist would do a number on you, though."

"Thanks," she tries to act bitter but she knows he's right. She probably should dress herself better, but what she had was fine. It was a concept Roman couldn't possibly understand. "What time is this shindig tomorrow? I've got a presentation to put together."

"It starts at 7, we might be able to dip out by 9."

"Sounds good," she gives a thumbs up.

"Thanks, I really didn't want to go alone," he tells her. Occasionally his tough and brave demeanor slips away. He doesn't even want to go and the thought of wandering around alone is terrifying. "What's your presentation on?" He asks, not wanting to let the conversation to die out.

"It's a family genealogy thing."

"That sounds fun," he says with a bit of skeptisicm.

"It's got other stuff to it," Emma explains. He doesn't reply. She taps her finger anxiously on the wooden desk in front of her. She looks down and chews at her lips. When she looks back up Roman is looking down too. His brow is wrinkled in concentration and one foot fidgets ever so slightly. "You look like you have something to tell me."

"I have a lot to tell you," he kicks his shoes off and crawls further back into the bed.

"Okay," she waits.

"I can't tell you, though."

"Why?"

"I'm not ready to." Emma wants to laugh at that. He's always been so dramatic and now was not an exception. If he has something he wants to say he should say it. Something in the way looks up tells her he means it. He wants to but isn't ready.

"Okay," she nods.

"Um-" he rubs at his face. "What have you been up to? I mean besides school."

"Honestly? Not much," she licks her lips and twists her nose to the side.

"How's it been?"

"It's been a bit of an adjustment for sure."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Emma sighs. "It's just different and new."

"I can relate to that," he mumbles.

"I bet," she nods, not even knowing the half of it. She bites at her cheeks and fidgets her lips back and forth. "Are things good for you?"

"Things are fine." His mouth twitches as if there's more to say. With one eyebrow raised slightly, she nods for him to continue. "I'm completely fucking lost."

"Roman," she frowns.

"Work keeps me pretty busy but it's quiet," his nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath. "There's so much I want to tell you." Emma stands from her seat and moves closer to him. She rests her hands on the comforter next to him.

"What's up?"

"I can't tell you," he whispers.

"You're being really cryptic right now, and that's kind of my thing so I need you to stop," she pushes at him lightly. His face lightens up and a soft smile forms.

"Sorry. I'll try to stop." Feeling more comfortable, she climbs on the bed and sits with her back against the cold brick wall. "It's kind of depressing in here," he notes.

"Yeah," Emma sighs. "I haven't really felt up to decorating." She pulls her knees to her chest. The room, even with her newly arrived items, is depressing. She almost wants to keep it that way. The moment it begins to feel homey that means it is her new home. She doesn't want that. "What about your house?"

"Huh?"

"Your new house. What's it like?"

"Oh," he smiles to himself. "It's pretty empty. I really don't have much room to talk."

"That's what I thought," Emma jests.

"I didn't decorate it. I had someone do that."

"Why?"

"I know I almost always look dashing." He motions to his face. She rolls her eyes. "But my interior design skills are lacking."

"So you just figured depressing and empty would be okay?"

"Yeah, like my soul."

"You are such a drama queen," she grumbles. "Well, when I come home for Thanksgiving we'll do some decorating."

"Who said you're invited over?" Roman joked only to realize it wasn't an appropriate joke. After not speaking for months the last thing he wants is for them to revert back to that. "Okay, but no bright colors. I have a stoic persona to keep."

"Oh fuck off. I know you don't invite people over." Roman opens his mouth to reply but closes it. He actually has never invited anyone over. "That's what I thought."

"So... Do you invite people over?" He asks, unsure of what he means by it.

"No," she stretches her legs back out. "I like my privacy. This is my _home,_" she throws up air quotes and cringes. "I'm trying to be comfortable here. I don't need anyone's aura fucking it up."

"Aura? You believe that shit now?" He scoffs. "You really do turn into a hippy at college, huh?"

"Oh no, not at all," she laughs. "We were talking about it in my anthropology class last week. I mean like the vibe you leave behind."

"What vibe do I leave behind?" Emma hesitates and looks past him.

"Chaos," she answers.

"Chaos?" He echoes in a fake insulted tone. "That's the mood I'm going to leave behind here?"

"Chaos," she nods.

"Well, that's disappointing. I'd hate to leave you with that... I guess I can't leave." He looks up with his face twisted in a fake grimace.

"That's not what I meant that by that," she crosses her arms. Roman uncrosses his legs and lays back onto her pillow. His legs hang over the bottom.

"You're bed's too short."

"It wasn't built for literal giants," she sassed. "I fit fine in it."

"I have never slept in a twin bed before, you know that?" He thinks aloud. He raises his eyebrows in thought. "How does anyone fuck in these beds? Like even normal sized people?" He rolls over trying to feel out the entire space. He's never had a bed smaller than a queen before. Or shared a room with someone.

"It's really not that small," she insists. "You look like a little kid."

"I told you it was small."

"No, not because of the bed," Emma explains. "Just the way you're handling yourself."

"Wow. Two months at college and now you're a body language professional."

"How many times are you going to make that joke?" She giggles.

"At least once a day until you graduate," he smirks.

"What are you doing here, Roman?" She asks again. "Really?"

"Just stopping by-"

"Roman," she puts a hand on his knee. "What's going on?"

"I missed you." His voice wavers, unsure of how true it is. Apparently, it works enough because her face softens.

"I missed you too." A hint of a smile appears. Roman clasps his hands together in his lap. He really does look like a child looking for some form of guidance and assurance. He doesn't know it, but he wants someone to tell him what he's supposed to be doing.

He should be here- in school with her. His dad should be alive and running the company. I this alternate life he's imagined he's actually good at school. Maybe even good with people. He could have had friends, maybe a girlfriend, and enjoyed school. Maybe if his dad was alive he wouldn't be so fucked up. So territorial.

He didn't want the life he would have to return to come Monday.

"I'm glad your here," she murmurs and crawls up to lay down next to him.

"Me too," he says and means it. Once she's finished adjusting herself, he beings pushing her to the wall. "I'm too close to the edge of the bed."

"You're like a foot away from the edge." She pushes back.

"This bed is so small." Roman stretches his arms out bonking her face on purpose. "How are your friends?" He asks, not acknowledging the awkward lack of room she has.

"They're good," she tells him, unsure if he meant college or high school friends. "My friend, Maggie's, boyfriend- I think he's her boyfriend anyway, is like obsessed with you apparently."

"She's got good taste," he jokes.

"Not really," Emma furrows her brow and shakes her head. "He's an asshole. Like, no one likes him. We keep telling her, but y'know..."

"She loves him?" He deducts. Her problems seem so simple and it relaxes him to hear it.

"Yeah. For some unknown reason." Emma closes her eyes.

"What about you?" He inquires. "Have you met any cute boys? Or girls?"

"Ha. Ha." She opens her eyes. "I haven't really felt up to doing too much," she admits. "I've gone out a few times but it's weird."

"Weird?"

"Yeah." Emma looks over at him. "I guess I just got used to knowing everyone and now it's all strangers everywhere."

"It's a big campus."

"Big city," she adds.

Emma hears the door unlock and looks up to see Jules enter. She wasn't expecting anyone to be in the room with her, Emma never brought people over. Her astonishment is written all over her face at the sight of a handsome man in a well-fitted suit laying on her roommate's bed. His suit is crinkled from sitting with his legs folded, his pair of Prada loafers sitting astray on the ground.

"Hey," Emma's eyes open wide, a shocked look on her face. "I thought you left."

"I did, but 95 is a mess, wrecks galore, so I'm gonna wait it out. Head out in the morning," she says with some caution, glancing at the stranger in the room.

"Probably for the best," she nods. "Um- this is my roommate, Jules. Uh... Jules is Roman. He's from my hometown."

"It's nice to meet you," Roman tells her.

"You too," Jules says. Roman stands to put on his shoes. Emma looks up at him as he moves. "Oh, don't feel like you have to leave."

"It's actually getting kind of late," he explains without ever looking away from Emma. "I'll text you about tomorrow," she nods. "It was really nice to meet you, Jules. I'm sure I'll see you around."

"You too," she smiles to him as he leaves. Once the door is shut and the sound of his walking has faded out Emma waits. Jules approaches slowly with one finger raised in the air. "Okay," here it comes. "Not to get all in your business, but what the fuck?"

"It's complicated," she shrugs almost laughing at how much of an understatement that is.

"Yeah," Jules scoffs. "I bet. You acted like you didn't know him like a month ago, now he's in our dorm making out with you?"

"Okay we weren't-" Emma stutters.

"Weren't what? Weren't getting hot and heavy?"

"Okay, first, hot and heavy? You sound like a mom in a Lifetime movie. Second, we were literally just sitting here."

"Okay, yeah, _sure_."

"It's complicated," she reiterates. "Roman and I are... childhood friends. Some really weird shit happened last year and we hadn't spoken in a few months when it came up."

"Okay," Jules nods. She puts her hands up in surrender. "It's complicated."

"Plus, I don't really like talking about it. Roman is... well off to say the least, and he's... I don't know. It's always weird when he comes up."

"Why is it weird?" Jules asks. "Oh! Is it because you're fucking him?"

"Jesus Christ," Emma huffs. "No. It's not that."

"Hey, hey," Jules interjects. "I get it. You're best friends and you don't want to fall into that trope. It's cliche and overused."

"Jules."

"Did he come all the way here to see you?"

"No, he's got some business stuff going on," Emma has no idea what that entails.

"So can I assume you won't be enjoying any goddamn peace a quiet?" Jules jokes, hopping onto her bed.

"Nope," Emma lays back on her pillow. "Wherever Roman Godfrey goes, something chaotic is sure to follow."

........

Roman lies awake in bed. His hotel room is cold a quiet. The only sound is the clicking on and off of the air conditioning. He pulls the covers off of himself and goes to the kitchen to dig through the bar. He unscrews a bottle of whiskey the hotel had provided for him. Looking around the dark suite, he estimates he could fit at least four of Emma's dorms in here.

Even with all the lights off, the surrounding buildings illuminate the room in a blue shade. He sips straight from the bottle while looking out the floor to ceiling window. There's an empty pit growing from the bottom of his chest and devouring everything around him. Is it thirst or lust? The feelings grow close and closer every day.

He thinks about the lie he had said. It wasn't a full lie, he had missed her, but that wasn't why he had come by. Something he had dreamed had told him to go. He couldn't remember what happened in the dream, but he knew it was urgent.

Then when she came into the room it seemed like the perfect idea. Everyone always said he looked too harsh. He really didn't give a shit, but it would appease some of the investors to see him look less threatening.

She made him soft.

It made him feel sick. Weak. Pathetic.

Throwing on the now wrinkled suit he had on earlier he takes the elevator down to the bar. It's pushing the end of the night, last call would be in 30 or so minutes. The only people that go to a hotel bar at this hour are lonely businessmen looking to cheat, couples getting cozy after a date, and the wildest of a bachelorette party.

Roman takes a seat alone at the bar and orders another whiskey. Looking around, he finds the cute couple in the corner sipping on mixed drinks with soft smiles and locked eyes. On the other side of the bar is an older man with a girl much too young for him. He gives Roman a wink when he catches him glancing over. Then at the high top tables sits a group of three girls in their mid-twenties. Bingo.

He susses them out. The prettiest one of them has a wedding ring on. A nice one at that. While Roman loves a good challenge he's in no mood tonight. He looks back and forth at the other two girls. The taller of the two catches him looking. He turns away quickly and takes a sip from his drink. He sees from the corner of her eye she's approaching him. "You're not very good at that."

"At what?" He questions.

"Trying to be humble," she takes a seat at the barstool.

"What do you mean?" He asks slyly.

"The whole "_I wasn't checking you out"_ thing," she teases. "No man comes to a bar at this hour, in a Prada suit, to just have a drink."

"You caught me," he chuckles lightly. "You couldn't even indulge me for a minute, could you?"

"Life's too short to not make the first move on the cute guy at the bar." Roman looks her in the eyes and sees the honesty in her statement. She's got a bite to her.

"My room or your room?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi friends thank you for all your lovely comments! I hope everyone is like it so far!! The next chapter is by far one of my most challenging pieces so I'm excited to share it with everyone!!


	6. Upper Echelon

  
Even dressed in expensive clothing, Emma feels like she looks poor. There was some way that all these wealthy people held themselves, the confidence and security they felt, that she couldn't mimic. Even the women she could tell had been paid to be there held themselves differently. They were wonderful actresses.

Roman had, as he said, sent her a dress and shoes over. Early in the morning, she gets a call from the desk attendant that there's a bulky, bald man that had something from her. She tosses it all on Jules' abandoned bed and goes back to sleep. It would, without a doubt, be an exhausting day.

She had been to most of the Godfrey Gala's growing up. It wasn't a choice, she was given and dress and taken there. This was completely different. For starters, this was not some gala in the middle of Hemlock Grove. This was in a city with over 1.5 million people in it. It was going to be crowded. Second, she wasn't a child being brought to enhance Olivia Godfrey's image. She was going as an adult with another adult.

It looks like she's going as his date, both are well aware of that.

On the car ride over he passes her a bottle of tequila from a brand she's never seen before. It's surely top shelf, way out of her reach. She sits in the backseat with him, sipping at the bottle before passing it back to him. She doesn't have anything new to say since the night before, neither does he.

"How did you know I'd be at my dorm?" She asks breaking the silence.

"Honestly?" He asks. She nods. "I knew your mom wouldn't be able to get you back and forth in enough time. Not with her schedule."

"Oh," Emma hums. He would think that through. "What is this for? Who are you raising money for?"

"It's like to help support STEM summer camps," Roman looks out the window. "I don't really know, I just get the tickets and go."

"Why don't you just donate instead of going?"

"It looks good for the company," he stares out into the streets. "Y'know, having a CEO there, take a photo or something." Emma nods to him, understanding why his PR person would want that. She leans her head against the window and looks out at the sun setting. Romans's hand pulls at her shoulder. "You're going to mess up your hair."

"Oh, thanks." She pats it back into place.

"Hey, hey, look at me." She turns to face him. His eyes trail all over her face. He raises his hand and presses his thumb to her lips.

"What are you doing?" She questions.

"I'm going to smear your lipstick," he explains in full seriousness. She quickly pushes his hand away and swats at it when he tries to return it. "Come on, I want it to look like you blew me on the ride over."

"Why?" She asks. His face falls when he realizes she's not joking.

"I just thought it would be funny," he swallows.

"What's funny about making it look like your friend sucked your dick?"

"I guess it's not when you put it like that." Roman looks forward and she pushes back into her corner. What Jules' had said replayed in her head. She always knew it looked strange, but she didn't think it

"Em," he looks over at her. She's still upset and he can't figure out why. She'd never pushed away his jokes. He thought she was in on the joke. She used to be anyways. "Em," he repeats. She looks over at him, eyes soft and brows turned down. "Forget it. Have a good time tonight.

Emma nods and turns forward again. Roman turns to wipe his nose under the guise of looking out the window. The handkerchief is ruined by the blood now. He tucks it into the pouch on the back of the seat in front of him. "Come on." He pulls at her hand softly. The sad look on her face has faded into a flat one. A blank slate for the evening.

She follows him out of the car and tugs at his arm before moving forward. "I've never been to these things without your mom telling me what to do," she bites back the disgust of mentioning her. "Or telling me to be careful and not trip or scuff my shoes."

"Well, I'm not going to tell you what to do." He removes her hand from his arm. "But, if you trip don't take me down with you."

"No promises," she teases but really does pay attention to her walking.

Roman pulls her towards a white backdrop where a couple of photographers are set up. This will be the first public photo of him smiling. That would make some poor PR intern's job a little bit easier. He doesn't always have the greatest public reputation. Or ever.

They're a few of the only people under 40 at this thing. Roman explains that many of the others were most likely escorts or children of donors. They park themselves at the edge of a bar where the keep getting handed shots for toasts. Neither knows who they're drinking to but they'll do it anyway. She's never seen so many middle-aged men wasted before.

As people begin moving towards their seats Roman's face grows annoyed. He would rather stay drinking at the bar. Sadly, duty calls. At their table is another two pairs of people. Both with their wives who have had too much plastic surgery. Emma wonders what their motivation was to go that far. It's not hard to imagine it was to keep their husbands from running off with some younger. Or maybe they just liked the way they looked.

At some point were all of these men like Roman? Young and sworn to the bachelor lifestyle. Or were they working in the reverse? Married too young and were now stuck. Surely some of them must be happy. Some of them had to be in love.

A speaker stands as wine glasses are filled. She introduces herself at the head of whatever company operates the summer camps. Emma and Roman throw back a couple glasses of wine each before she's off the stage.

When the first course comes out it's a challenge to remember her manors and not pig out like the drunk college student she is. Even with the wine, she gulps down she can hear Olivia Godfrey's voice telling her how to hold her fork and knife. _Sit up straight, you'll ruin your posture._

After dessert is brought out and finished, another person walks to the small stage to say something. Emma is drunk enough to zone out what they're saying. When Roman starts to stand she looks up in horror. "I have to say a couple of words."

"You didn't tell me that!" She hisses up at him.

"I just found out." He motions towards the speaker who has begun to introduce him.

Roman makes his way to the stage, and over claps, she feels someone tapping on her shoulder. Looking back, a man from the table behind her is trying to get her attention. "Whatever Godfrey's paying you," he says quietly. "I'll double it if you leave with me. Nothing weird either, I just want to piss him off."

"I'm not getting paid?" The man gives her a questioning look. "Roman is a childhood friend of mine."

"Sorry. I just assumed he didn't have friends."

When Roman returns to his seat people begin clearing from the tables and moving back to the bar. The turns to him trying to hold back her laughter. In the most steady voice she can muster she leans closer to him. "I was just propositioned."

"Propositioned?" He questions.

"Yeah, he offered to double whatever you're paying me."

"God." Roman runs his hand through his hair. "I don't really handle the money. I can call my assistant for an estimate of what it cost after the ticket, dress." She hits his stomach with the back of her hand. "And shoes."

"I'm getting a drink," she stands and straightens her dress.

"Hey, Em!" He calls before she moves too far. Turning quickly, she crosses her arms. "How much does one single condom cost? I need that for the estimate." She flips him the middle finger and keeps walking.

Squeezing past a couple of older men, she makes it to a small part of the bar. She orders a gin and tonic in a sad attempt to seem mature. While waiting, a hand grazes her ass. Turning quickly and on defense, she sees a guy not much older than herself. Probably early 30's she guesses. "Sorry," he apologizes. "I didn't mean to grab your ass. It's just hard to move."

"_Sure," _she remarks.

"I'm serious," he insists. "If I wanted to grab your ass I would go with a full cup. Not just a graze."

"That's good to know," she says sarcastically. "I was wondering what your preferred form of sexual harassment was." He laughs deeply.

"Really, I am sorry. I would offer to buy you a drink but..." he motions to the open bar in front of them.

"Well, thank you." She nods her head once before turning to wait on her drink.

"Whose kid are you?" She hears him excuse himself through the crowd to her. He puts his hand up before she can answer. "Wait, wait... Don't tell me... You're one of Peirson's daughters." She shakes her head with a sly smile. "Newmont?" Another head shake. "Okay." He looks her face over one more time. "Lawson?"

"Yeah, you got it!" She grins.

"Really?" His eyes widen in excitement.

"No," she says flatly.

"Okay, I give up."

"I'm here with someone," she explains.

"Oh." His head moves back, stunned. "Now I feel like an ass."

"Nah," she mouths a thank you to the bartender who finally passes her a drink. "I just radiate with importance."

"You hold yourself well," he compliments.

"Thanks?" She blinks with a scrunched face.

"Who are you here with?" He asks, presumably to find out if she's an escort. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Um," she looks around to check on Roman. He seems to be having a nice, friendly chat with one of the other girls near their age. "I'm here with Roman."

"Godfrey?" He questions with shock. "Roman Godfrey?"

"Yeah," she laughs back. "He's a childhood friend," she explains for the second time that night.

"Roman Godfrey has friends huh?" She doesn't answer. "If you're here as friends, can I get your number?" Emma thinks quickly. Does she really want to give her number to a guy that goes to these things? Does she need another Roman in her life? Checking on him one more time, he's scooted closer to the girl.

"Um." She scratches the back of her neck. "Yeah, sure."

"You hesitated," he jokes.

"I did not hesitate!" She holds her hand out. "Give me your phone." He hands it to her and she quickly types in her number before handing it back. He types something out and her own phone vibrates. "Jonah Richfield," she reads allowed. "That's your name?"

"No, Jonah is my middle name." He shakes his head and takes a long blink with a chuckle. "My legal name is Montgomery Jonah Richfield."

"Wow," she laughs. "That is so pretentious."

"My brother's name is Duke, though."

"Did your parents just want to make sure everyone knew you were rich?"

"That's the upper echelon for you," he shrugs with a smirk. "I have to do some schmoozing on my dad's behalf but it was nice to meet you..."

"Emma."

"Emma," he repeats and disappears into the crowd. When did boys get so bold? Or at least bold with her? She downs her drink and orders another before excusing her way through the crowd. Roman stands from his conversation when he sees her coming.

"There she is," he announces. Behind him, the girl's face drops dramatically. "I wanted to introduce you to a friend of my father's." With an arm around her, he pulls her. She almost spills her drinks trying to walk as fast as him.

"I'm very drunk and in heels," she hisses before he slows down.

"Holy shit, what took so long?" He groans. "This place is filled with vultures and I'm roadkill."

"Huh?" She hiccups.

"These girls are always on the lookout for a new client."

"Isn't that your type."

"Emma," he says in fake awe. "I'm a grown man with a company. I don't have to pay for women-" He stops when she rolls her eyes. "You know one day they're going to get stuck up there."

"Yeah, and one day I'm actually going to pull my hair out."

"You're an angry drunk," he says with a smile. Emma squints her eyes. "Look at that, she's speechless."

"No, I'm just very drunk. And hungry." She sways. "Why do rich people always eat like tiny plates. You eat a meal the size of what I consider a snack."

"Because-" he stops before making a joke about how much she eats. The memory of her bones protruding unnaturally shuts him the fuck up real quick. "Because we fill ourselves with alcohol and cocaine instead." She seems to accept that answer.

"You wanna leave?" He asks and receives just a shrug. "We can get burgers?" Her head turns up with eyes wide.

......

Leaving the investor dinner, Emma's careful not to scuff her shoes. Memories of her Mary Jane's on Christmas mornings slip into her mind and stress her out. The shoes he put her in tonight are much more expensive than the ones his mother had. The way both of them were in head to toe Gucci makes her wonder if he has some sort of brand deal going on or if just really liked Armani.

It's not a very long walk to the car where the driver holds the door open. It feels out of place to leave an event without Roman driving them home. Neither bother to buckle themselves in, choosing to slide into the chairs. 

"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asks, voice running out of energy.

"I uh- I'm going to sleep in and do some homework," she plans aloud.

"I have a last lunch meeting before I leave- if you want to go?"

"Yeah," she nods. "I can go."

"I can pick you up tomorrow?"

"Sounds good."

"Or," he counters himself with a mischievous ring to his voice. "You could just stay at the hotel with me? It would be easier."

"It would be easier," she agrees, trying to pretend she thought it over.

"I can get something for you to wear brought over," he adds. 

"Yeah, yeah!" She nods. "Let's do that."

"Do you still want to stop for food or do room service?"

"Room service." She looks over to him.

They ride quietly the rest of the way. Despite knowing how much money Roman had, she's still surprised to see hit suite. It's fucking massive for just him. Once he flicks the lights on and she can fully see everything she laughs out loud. He gives her a knowing look.

Walking further in, her heels click against the marble floor until reaching the carpeted sitting area. Emma sits on a chaise and reaches down to unbuckle her shoes. Roman makes his way to the small liquor table by the window and grab a small bottle of whiskey.

"I uh-" Roman moves forward. "I can sleep on the couch."

"Do you not want to-"

"I- It doesn't... Do you?"

"I don't mind," she trails off and shrugs.

"Do you need pajamas?" He asks before realizing that it had been a spur of the moment choice. "Duh. Of course you do! All my sleep stuff is in the suitcase still, just grab whatever-"

Feeling drunk and brave enough, she cuts him off with a long kiss. He's surprised but not for long. One swipe with her tongue and he's yanking and pulling at her clothing. _This is a mistake. This is a mistake. EMMA! Remember New Years?_

She ignores her own thoughts and pulls him past the open french doors into the bedroom. Roman is as careless as ever with his expensive things. Her dress that costs god knows how much ends up with a broken zipper and tossed on the floor. Hotel decor is knocked over, surely adding a hefty fine. She can hear his watch crack as he throws it off.

He stands up quickly, back straight. She thinks he might be upset about his watch but he just starts digging through his pockets. "Aha!" He grins finding his phone. Emma watches curiously as he quickly makes a call. "Hello," Roman slurs into the phone. "This is Roman Godfrey," he declares with an obnoxious amount of conviction conviction. He begins to falter when he sees she's fumbling with his belt. "I need you to get an outfit for my friend for- for-" He takes the phone off his ear to look down at her. "For lunch tomorrow." He bites back a moan while watching her push his remaining articles of clothing on the floor. "Text me when you get this. Don't call," he finishes quickly and hangs up.

Her mind is blinking red that this is a bad idea. That this very moment is leading to a path she shouldn't go down. She reaches out to take a drink from Roman's glass, quickly pushing the thought away. She hasn't had good sex in months. Or really any meaningful physical contact. A short hug here or there from a friend.

For a split moment they hold a look. For a moment she's worried he's changed his mind. That he'll tell her to go back to her dorm. That she'll go and he'll disappear again. He doesn't. Instead, his hand lifts her chin and the soft pad of his thumb gently caresses her bottom lip. It wasn't his intention, but when she lets her jaw drop open he let's his hand wander to the back of her head. Fingers laced in her hair. 

As always, they move flawlessly and in sync. 

Roman is speechless. There are a million things running through his head that he wants to say. Normally he's absolutely shameless. Now, there's a building sensation of embarrassment for even thinking those things. He leans his head back against the headboard, eyes fluttering closed upon first contact. He can only watch from his strange angle as she takes steady, deep breaths to mask any sounds she wants to make. He can tell she enjoys the silence. That they can be silent together. 

Watching her move slowly, it takes every ounce of strength to just not take control. It's a tease of sorts. She rests her hands and occasional grip at his shoulders. 

Looking her over, there's a small bit of pudge around her stomach. Roman Godfrey, the man who has only slept with model types, has never seen it before. Even the girls from high school tended to be the athletic cheerleader built girls. Somehow something that normally would have put him off is cute. In this moment it occurs to him how superficial he often is.

The thought doesn't last long. It's overpowered by her newfound pace that leaves her breasts bouncing and lonely. She almost loses her concentration when her palms at them. 

"That's it," he encourages her. He runs his hands up and down her sides. He settles on her waist and helps provide some guidance. Sitting up straighter he can't help but nip and her exposed collar bones. "Come for me." 

"Shut up, shut up," she huffs trying to block out his voice. It makes it too real. Too normal.

He ignores her, though. She finishes obediatnly with the sound of his voice and the feeling of his hands. 

Without giving her any time to come down, he rolls them both over with a grunt. It's a little painful. He's moving with such force that with every hit she swears she's moving up on the mattress. She almost asks him to slow down, but one look at his face and she can't. It's contorted in such pleasure that she feels a bit proud about it.

Even with months of separation, she knows the way he looks and sounds. 

He finishes with pathetic, breathy, grunt, letting himself spill over. He takes a moment to catch his breath before pulling out from her. He's about to get up and get a towel to clean their mess when he hears it. A small, pathetic, and breathy moan escapes her lips. She'll be ashamed of it later, but not now. 

He pounces forward grabbing at her right breast with one hand and He leans his head back against the headboard, eyes fluttering closed upon first contact.. He feels a twitch in his loins when she shutters and grabs at his hand to guide him. She throws her head back against the pillow and makes the most carnal noise he has ever heard.

She lays on her back, a small sex-drunken smile forming on her lips. "You're fucking filthy," she feels him whisper into her neck. She gasps quietly and nods eagerly and shamefully. He's so right and she's so embarrassed. There's no one else that she doesn't use a condom with, much less get's off like that for. She can't explain it.

"Are you still hungry?" He asks, returning from the bathroom. She hadn't even noticed he left. 

"Ugh, god, yes." She lifts her head up from the pillow. She lays back down as he orders. With all her strength she looks up one more time. "Roman, get cake," she says falling back down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N yooooo I hope this isn't too cringey. I feel kinda yikes about it but I'm tired and am going to publish it before I change my mind.
> 
> Comments and likes are very appreciated! Love you all!


	7. Season of the Witch

They both awake rather haphazardly to the shriek of an alarm clock. Emma shivers and pulls the covers closer. She clenches her eyes tight, it's too bright in the room. For a moment in that place between awake and asleep, she manages to think she's in her own bed at her dorm. A small movement within the blankets ruins that. The blankets are too soft and fluffy to be her own.

Slowly blinking her eyes awake, she takes in the room around her. The smell of hotel soap and leftover food from the night before infiltrates her nostrils. It's a strange but not unpleasant scent. She's hungry, that's for sure. "Are you cold?" She hears mumbled from through the sea of bedding.

"Yeah," she croaks. There's a slight ruffling from the other side of the bed and a sharp burst of cold air as he stands. Roman walks across the room, in his bare glory, to the thermostat and turns it up. She can hear the sound of his feet pattering back to the bed and under the covers. He shivers and pulls them tighter around himself. It's cold out there.

.....

They both finally rise at the sound of a gentle knock in the door. Feeling a little silly as he rises to answer, Emma covers her face with the pillow from below her head. She hears the door open and then close with a short _"thank you."_ He comes back to the room quietly and shakes her leg through the blanket. "You still want to go?" He asks with a cough.

"Sure," she sighs slowly lift the pillow. Looking at him, he's holding a black bag much like the one that had been delivered to her dorm the day before. She feels some sort of emptiness realizing that this is their normal. Their friendship had become devoid of any form of shame that should come along with their actions.

"We've got about an hour before we have to go."

"Okay, I'll go shower."

She relies on what little makeup had fit into her clutch the night before. It doesn't do much to hide her hungover aesthetic, but it's an attempt. Roman, as he always does, manages to look perfectly fine. His eyes show no sign of exhaustion or a headache like hers do. He's seated on the edge of the bed tying his shoes when she emerges from the bathroom carrying the dress.

"Roman," she says examining it. "I can't wear this."

"Sure you can! You'll look good in it," he calls from the other side of the room."

"No," she says seriously. He turns his head to question her. "I can't wear this dress." She waves to her collarbones. They're dusted with brown and blue bruises.

"Oh," he laughs. "Uh... I'll go make a call."

.....

Emma sits next to Roman in the brightly lit restaurant. She pokes around at a plate with small unrecognizable food. Pink squares next to orange squares. A weird sauce drizzled over it. She's careful with every bite to not get any crumbs or stains on her light pale blue dress. 

It's ugly, or at least that's what she thinks. Roman has assured her that it's not. "It's couture," he says smugly as if that excuses its odd shape and pattern. Apparently, this is just what rich people in the city wear. The investor's wife compliments her on it almost immediately. 

_ "I would have worn that three kids ago." _

Emma smiles and nods at her comment. It's strange given that the woman is incredibly petite. While Roman and her husband speak, she tries to make small talk with Emma.

"How is school going? Our oldest just started the 5th grade."

"It's good," Emma answers after taking a sip from her drink. "5th grade, huh?"

"Yes," she beams. "He's also just joined the baseball team." She glances and smiles at her husband who is paying her no mind.

"Is he a baseball fan?"

"Oh! He's a huge Cubs fan. Which is unfortunate because we're a Red Sox family." Emma nods along trying to seem interested. "He keeps telling us to sell our part of the team, but it's not going to happen." Emma almost chokes on her drink. "Do you like sports?"

"I've been to a couple of high school and UPenn games," she offers.

"What do your parents do?" Emma tries to think of what to say. Surely the truth wouldn't make much sense or look very impressive.

"My mom works in healthcare," she bullshits. "My father died when I was young."

"I'm so sorry to hear about that," the woman consoles her.

"It's alright," she says while playing with her _'food.' _"I don't really remember him." Emma glances over to look at Roman. He's fully engaged in an energetic conversation with the investor.

"Well, anyways," she changes the subject. "I saw the two of you last night. We didn't get the chance to say hello, but I have to tell you- your dress was beautiful."

"Oh, thank you," Emma says quietly. "Roman picks everything out so it's really a compliment to him."

"Really?" she marvels. "I usually have to dress everyone in the family."

"Yeah, I usually wear like normal clothes," she says awkwardly. "Roman's always wore button-ups and jackets and the whole get up."

"Interesting," she nods and finishes her mimosa. "How did the two of you meet?"

"Oh," Emma thinks. "We've just known each other forever."

That's how the whole lunch goes. Stiff, formal, and not entirely unfamiliar to her. She knew the rules of when to speak, when to stay quiet, and when to smile. They had been ingrained in her since childhood. However, as an adult, there's no one enforcing these rules. The only thing keeping her on track was her own discomfort and knowing that it could hurt Roman if she left.

But it's so fucking boring. When Roman and the middle-aged man are finally shaking hands and saying goodbye, she is about four mimosas in deep and taking long drawn out blinks to stay awake. Roman begins to feel that exhaustion on the car ride back. 

Stripping down to her underwear, she crawls into the still unmade bed and burrows into the covers. Roman follows behind shortly. When they both wake up again it's late into the afternoon when the sun has softened. Without a thought or intention, both of their remaining clothing articles find their way to the floor.

.....

Emma sits with her legs crossed and a blanket wrapped around her. It's almost 3:00 AM. She and Jules had taken up residence in one of the dorms study rooms. They both have half-empty cups of coffee in front of them and a box of cookies that Roman had delivered for her by surprise. She has half of one left in one hand and is scrolling frantically on her laptop with the other.

It had been about a week and a half since fall break. The atmosphere was officially cold with likely no chance of a break for multiple months. It seemed that her life existed in a perpetual of fall and winter, with spring and summer only coming in hazy dreams. 

"Listen to this!" Emma says softly. Jules looks up from her own computer. "Death was looked upon as the resumption into nature, and as the investment with vague and uncontrollable powers, of a spiritual force formerly embodied in the concrete, limited, manageable, and therefore less awful form of a living human personality." She looks up for a reaction. "That's kind of beautiful, isn't it?"

"I guess," Jules crinkles her face. "If you're into morbid things."

"I'm not into morbid things," she objects.

"Okay, you're into witchy things. Is that better?"

"I prefer the word spooky, but I'll accept witchy." Emma moves to start typing again but stops. "Do you believe in the supernatural?"

"Like ghosts?"

"Yeah, and witches, or monsters."

"I believe in ghosts, but everything else is bullshit."

"At my high school," Emma chuckles at how silly it will sound to say aloud. "We had this new kid come and everybody was convinced he was a werewolf. Even the police officers."

"What the fuck is going on in your hometown?"

"Crazy shit, I'm telling you." She takes a breath. "It makes you think, y'know? These legends have to come from somewhere."

"Yeah, they come from bored people from like thousands of years ago. Now, I think it's time you get some sleep."

"I'm okay." She wraps the blanket closer. "Just been thinking too much"

.....

After her first class the next morning, she grabs something to eat and heads back to her dorm. She had only managed a few hours of sleep and wanted to take a nap before her afternoon classes. Once the door is closed behind her, she tosses her backpack down and pulls off any excessive pieces of clothing. She lets out a sigh at the instant relief of taking off her bra. 

Under the safety of several blankets, she lets her eyes close. The heavy weight they had carried that morning was distracting. It's dark and cold in her dorm- just perfect. Only a half-hour or so has passed before the loud ringing from her phone pulls her awake. She ignores it but it doesn't stop.

Reaching over to grab it, she turns on her lamp.  _ Incoming FaceTime from Roman. _

"What?" She groans answering it. His face is stalled for a moment before coming back to life.

"Wake up, sleepyhead."

"I've been awake."

"Really looks like it." He adjusts the way that he's holding his phone. She can see that he's at work, jacket off but button-up and tie still on. 

"I had class this morning," she yawns. "I came back for a nap."

"Was it a good nap?"

"Yeah, until you woke me up." He laughs from the other side as she scratches at her face. "What's up?" Her eyes feel heavy again.

"I just wanted to say hi," he shrugs. "I have this dumbass meeting with these dumbass public relations guys where I have to listen to their dumbass ideas."

"Have you told them that?"

"Yeah, but then the dumbass HR lady came," he babbles on. "It was a whole ordeal."

"Maybe be a little more patient with them." She sits up to make holding the phone easier. "They're still used to dealing with Olivia."

"Yeah," he grumbles. "They're just mad that I won't fuck them like she did."

"Yeah, I'm sure that's it," she replies sarcastically. 

"They don't think I'm likable."

"I wonder why," she chuckles. Roman huffs. 

"I'm running a business, not trying to be likable."

.....

On Halloween of all days is her conference with Dr. Lowenstien to talk about her project. It seemed fitting to do it on the creepiest day of the year. She sits in the hallway outside of his office, legs bouncing up and down. Dr. Lowenstien's voice can be heard saying goodbye to another student. He steps out and looks for her. "Ah, Miss Parker, come on in," he waves.

She follows him into a medium-sized office that has a minimalistic aesthetic. It's almost as if he bought furniture straight from an Ikea advertisement. She takes a seat across from him in an oddly shaped chair that is hard to get comfortable in. The only sign of disorganization comes from the bookshelf behind him where books seemed to be shoved wherever they can fit. "How are you?" He asks.

"I'm pretty good. How are you?"

"I'm doing great. These meetings are my favorite part of the course." He digs through a cabinet is his desk.

"Really?" She's surprised to hear that.

"Absolutely! I get to pry into some of the greatest minds in this school." He waves her paper in front of her for emphasis.

"I doubt that." Emma cocks her head with a small smile.

"Their minds are great enough to take my class." He completes the bit. "You seem really interested in my course," he sounds proud. "What's your major again?

"I'm hoping to get accepted into the neurobiology program."

"Ah," he exclaims. "You want to be a doctor."

"Anesthesiologist," she explains.

"Interesting." He taps his fingers on the desk. "Well, you should consider a minor. It's unusual to find students this dedicated to an elective course."

"I think it's just this course," Emma says truthfully. "I'm just really interested in the supernatural."

"Some of our upper-division classes focus on mythology. It's not quite the supernatural but you might find it interesting."

"Mythology?"

"Mhm." He nods. "I think you might even find it more interesting than this class."

"How so?"

"We focus down closer into where these monsters, or legends, whatever it is comes from. Surely they have some truth to them right?" Emma doesn't answer. "Did you know stories dragons appear in almost every culture? Even ones that had no means of communication with each."

"I didn't."

"Yeah." He grins. "Pretty cool, right?" She nods, intrigued by his excitement into something so absurd. "Werewolves exist in European cultures in a variety of ways, but they're viewed as were-leopards in others."

"That's actually really interesting," Emma says trying to convey that emotion.

"Oh, and don't get me started on vampire myths. Some of those legends date back before humans kept written history. They were passed down from parents to children. From Babylonian myth's to Dracula."

"And it all led up to Twilight," she chuckles.

"Shockingly enough, in a hundred or so years that will be taught in these courses." He leans back in his chair. "Look, I just think you would do well in this program. This course of study- mythology? That's what I do. That's what I love. It's so rare to find someone so interested in it."

"I don't know... Everyone in class seems pretty interested in it."

"Yeah, yeah. They like to talk about it- hear themselves talk. But this?" He taps on her paper. "This is fucking amazing."

"Thank you," she mumbles and looks away.

"I'm serious! You went above the assignment requirements. Technically I could take off points for that." Emma looks back up to him with fear written on her face. "I'm not going to." She lets out a breath she didn't know she had been holding.

"I just had free time, and found a couple of things interesting."

"Why do you think that is?" Emma looks around his office uncomfortably.

"I guess, I don't know much about my family."

"It's a fun way to get to know more about yourself," he acknowledges.

"This wasn't exactly an area of history we talked about in high school either, so it was all new."

"Well, keep digging, keep learning. You've got a few more weeks to fill out your ideas. But overall I would say it's a good place to be at."

"Thanks," she smiles uncomfortably.

"I would say I would like to see it become a bit more personal. You have done really great research into specifically the Druids, but not much on yourself. I know it can be difficult to dig that far back, but I would just be conscious of it."

"I'm going home in a few weeks for Thanksgiving, so maybe I can wrap it up then."

"Best of luck!" He smiles. "I'll see you next week, okay?"

"Sure thing," Emma smiles and stands.

"Happy Halloween. " He waves goodbye to her.

.....

Sitting at a long conference table, Roman plays absentmindedly with a pen. The people around him speak to each other and at him. He has no interest in what they're saying and has much more important work to do. "How does that sound, Mr. Godfrey?" A voice draws his attention.

"Huh?" He asks, setting the pen down. Looking around, he recognizes many of these people from previous meetings, there's only a strange face or two.

"I," the woman, Jenna, hesitates with an uncomfortable smile. "I was explaining that public opinion is rising and we hope to keep it moving that way."

"Why does it matter?" Roman yawns.

"Well," Jenna starts. "We rely heavily on tax subsidies and grants from the government to move on future plans." Roman waits for more. "The opinion of the public has a large sway in what companies are granted that... status."

"The public has clearly not stopped us before."

"Especially based a prior... situations..." A young man struggles to get his ideas together. "We have the opportunity to move this company's image away from what your mother left it."

"And what would that image look like?" Roman asks. A swift feeling of fear and intimidation overcomes the table. The young man sinks into his chair, worried he had just insulted his boss.

"Roman," Tim chimes in. "I've been with this company along time." Roman turns his attention to him, one hand under his chin. "Since before you were born," he chuckles. "I hope you take no offense to this, but I think your father had a very different vision for this company. Your mother, brilliant as she was-"

"You don't have to lie," Roman sighs and leans back in his chair.

"Huh?"

"My mother was a cunt. And not a very smart one. Manipulative? Yes. Brilliant? No."

"Well," Tim laughs nervously. "I assume since that's out in the open I can speak frankly?"

"Please," Roman nods.

"J.R. wanted this to be a company of the future. A showcase of the strength and ability mankind has. His vision was one of endless possibilities that would benefit everyone. Your mother had a very different view of that... I'm a marketing man. I have no idea what's going on in those labs. I just know that what is leaving them is not a good look for the Godfrey name."

"Tim," Roman sighs. "You knew my father probably better than anyone that is still with this company. I like what you're saying, and like that you have that vision in mind, but," he hesitates. "The bastardization of this company by my mother... What exactly is so concerning about that?"

"When people hear your name they feel threatened." Roman cocks one eyebrow as if to ask why that is a bad thing. "Which is good within our world- within competition. Most people aren't our competition. Most people are consumers and we scare them. We don't appear trustworthy."

"And my mother did that?"

"Absolutely," he answers without any second thoughts. 

"That sounds like her," Roman huffs with a small smile. 

"But..." Tim smiles. "With you, we have a chance to turn that around."

"I'm not sure I'm interested in appearing weak."

"Not weak," Jenna says quickly. "Confident but also compassionate." Roman does not look amused by this. 

"Roman, you're the face of this company," Tim says becoming serious before smiling. "And it's a good face to have." The table laughs at his joke. "There's a lot of opportunities to honor your father's legacy. To do things the way he wanted- he intended. The way he would want you to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! I woke up to exactly 666 hits on wattpad for this story this morning so tis the season! I've spent the last few weeks studying up on my spooky things so I'm ready to dig in to the dark stuff...


	8. Selfis

\-- Philadelphia --

As someone who spent the last year pretty much off the grid, Emma often goes days if not weeks without looking at social media. When she does finally open the app she almost chokes on air. The notification tab was a disaster of new likes and followers. 

In a panic, she digs through the accounts trying to figure out what she had done to cause this. What people work hard to achieve, she had gained without asking for. She had never asked for this sort of attention, she didn't want it. 

Finally, a notification of her being tagged in a photo does it. Some sort of a self-described 'millennial hustle' account had shared a photo from the gala a few weeks ago. It's 

_ America's Youngest CEO at 19, Roman Godfrey, appears at an event in Philadelphia with high school sweetheart @ilyemparker _

_ 200+ comments. _

She doesn't even bother digging through the comments. Instead, she clicks straight over to the other tagged account, Roman's.

Roman's "personal" account had more followers that the original Institutes did. It only had a few photos on it and it clearly was not being ran by Roman himself. He didn't follow her or anyone they knew. It was all other corporate and influential type people. It had been active since the beginning of summer and had gained a decent following.

From there she digs into the official Godfrey Institute's page that the original post came from. They neither followed or tagged her. She's dug herself in so deep that she doesn't even notice the door open and close. A blurred voice speaks into the air but Emma can't be bothered to process it. The voice gets louder, but no clearer. It's not until a hand is grabbing at her shoulder that she looks up, eyes crazed, to meet Jules'. 

"What's going on? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I-I-" Emma stutters and just hands her the phone. 

"Holy shit," Jules laughs.

"Yeah," Emma nods with her eyes still wide. "How did they-"

"Google."

"Yeah, but I'm not-"

"Google."

"But-"

"You're not as anonymous as you think you are," Jules tsks at her.

"Yeah but... Why do people care?"

"Your boy's rich and hot, people are going to be interested." Jules retreats back to her side of the dorm. "Welcome to the 21st century."

She knows Jules is right. That, of course, this would happen. She feels stressed about it, though. Turning her phone on do not disturb, she scoots down into the blankets. Her account wasn't used often, but she starts thinking about what she's posted there. And how people are looking at it, looking at her. That doesn't settle well.

......

"As you will recall from earlier lessons, the idea of the witch drastically changed with the rise of Christianity and other more modern monotheistic religions. From mythic creatures to servants of Satan. Of course, I'm using the word witch rather liberally here. Sorcerer, warlock, wizard, magician- they all mean something unique in their own rights, but for simplicity, I'm generalizing."

Emma nods along, quickly typing out notes on her computer and ignoring the incoming flow of texts from Roman. He texts her about his morning, about what meetings he has coming up, about the boring times in the day when he has nothing to do. She doesn't even have the time to reply to all of them. 

It's quite obvious to her that he's lonely. Very lonely. He'd spent months in seclusion and now craved human contact. It was a self-inflected reclusion, but now it felt like her responsibility to pull him back from it. Dr. Lowenstein continues on his lecture and she continues ignoring texts. 

She walks back to her dorm, wind howling even through her wool hat, before opening his messages. There's nothing special happening with him today. The last thing he's sent is that he's packing up to head home for the day. She only sends back the bare minimum to keep him entertained.

Back in her dorm, with a plastic box of takeout food, she climbs back into bed. She's fully aware of the crumbs that fall into her sheets but only pushes them away. Life is hard and eating in bed is a small luxury she allows herself. From the corner of her eye, she sees her phone light up. Expecting it to be Roman, she's relieved when it's not.

"Hello," Kay greets her in a sing-song voice.

"Hi," Emma says quietly. "What's up?"

"I was just wondering why my daughter hasn't called me in almost a week."

"Has it been that long?" She asks as if she didn't know. "I'm sorry, I've been so busy."

"I know, just occasionally shoot me a text and let me know you're alive."

"I'm alive, barely," she laughs. "I've just got this big lab report due at midnight, and I need to get dinner."

"I understand," her mom says. "I just pulled up to work so I've got to go too."

"Okay," she says. "I'll try and call tomorrow, okay?"

"Alright, I love you."

"I love you too," Emma smiles.

"Oh, Emma!" Kay stops her from having up.

"Yeah?"

"Let me know the next time you go to some fancy-schmancy dinner party. I'm a little hurt that I had to find out from the girl at the grocery store."

They both say goodbye and hang up. Emma runs through her mind trying to figure out what grocery story girl her mom was talking about. It's really nothing, it could be anyone. Hemlock Grove was small and the local gossip always rotated around the Godfrey's. However, it only heightens her suspicions that somethings off. That people are paying attention to her. It's unwelcome.

\--Hemlock Grove--

Roman walks down the long hallway. The sun shine's bright through the wall to floor windows. The building smells like news mopped floors and glass cleaner. There isn't a speck of dirt or dust to be seen. It's the way he wants his building to look.

It's contracts, contracts, contracts, conferences, and repeat. There's nothing to shake up the day-to-day. After a year of insanity, he should be glad for the normalcy of it all. It's not all that normal, not really. He's still a cursed monster with a lot of secrets. He's still feeding off of normal people.

But that's only when he gets bad. When he's so thirsty that the edge of his view vignettes and pulsates in black. When the noises in his ears get so loud he can't listen to anything. He's trying to be good. Truly.

Pryce had done what he could do. The 'supply' he gave Roman never seemed to be enough. There was always an itch to scratch. The scratch would build and build until his temper was uncontrollable and he'd have to go home to avoid any confrontations. When he'd get home, he'd slam doors until locked in the privacy of his bathroom where he sits curled up in the corner.

When his anger at the world fades away he is angry with himself 

He spends the time between typing out messages and hitting send trying to remember what they had been like. What friendships felt like. 

\-- Philadelphia --

It's a week after Halloween when Roman comes up to visit again. It's a surprise that Emma's not sure if she's happy about or not. 

When she gets back from class he's just there again. Just in her dorm room- reading her school books and sitting on her bed. "Hi?" She asks, not nearly as shocked at before. Startled? Yes. But not shocked. 

"Hey," he looks up and shuts the book.

"Hi?" She questions him, setting her things down at her desk. "How do you keep getting in here? Do you have a copy of my key or something?"

"No, I just ask the desk attendant to let me," he grins. 

"Of course," she looks up and shakes her head. "Why are you here?"

"Don't sound too excited to see me."

"You know what I meant," Emma says, kicking her shoes off and joining him on the small bed. 

"I just wanted to get out of the middle of butt-fuck nowhere for a weekend. Is that problem?"

"No," she shakes her head. "I guess not."

"What were your plans for the night?" He leans his head back on the wall.

"I had a thing with a couple of the girls down the hall," she explains slowly, knowing that he was about to ruin that plan. It wasn't a big thing, just a movie, and dinner in the communal area, but it was something. 

"Let's go get dinner," he says without a thought to what she's said.

"I- uh- okay," she stutters then nods. "Sure. I'd- uh- I'd like to make it back in time for everything."

"What do you want to eat?" He glances over as she digs through her closet.

"I don't care," Emma says dismissively as she finds a clean pair of pants. Stumbling out of her leggings and into a pair of jeans, Roman looks her outfit over. She's completed it with a school sweatshirt, scarf, and a knit cap.

"Do you... Need something to wear?"

"Is this not..." She trails off. "Did you mean somewhere nice?"

"I meant like dinner?" He cocks his head.

"Like dress-up dinner?" She asks and he nods slowly. "I figured we could just get like Thai or something? I'm pretty tired."

"Okay, yeah, Thai," he agrees but doesn't seem enthused. "There is a French restaurant that was suggested to me, but I guess that can wait."

"Let's go," she says while grabbing her purse. Roman stands, following her to the door. "Are you heading home tomorrow?"

"I'm not sure," he shrugs. "I'm not really excited to go back."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he nods solemnly. 

"Is work boring?"

"I just feel a bit... A bit bored with the routine, I guess," he looks deep in thought as they walk towards the staircase. 

"I have plenty of work to break up your routine," Emma jokes. 

Roman tries to call a cab for them, but she insists that it's not a far walk. In the cold, he swears it's a 20-minute walk. It's barely a 5. They're seated and some plastic booth in the corner of a shabby crowded restaurant. The fluorescent lights flicker above, and the walls are lined with large pieces of artwork. 

It's a bit loud and there's not much to say. She wants to ask why he didn't tell her before coming. It's not like she would have told him not to. Even though his texts and calls had become a bit overwhelming, he knew she would be happy to see him. It's not like he's the only lonely one.

"What's new?" He asks over the noise.

"Uh, nothing much," she shrugs and shakes her head. "I'm pretty boring."

"Yeah, well I've known that," he teases.

"Well," she grits her teeth before continuing. She hadn't planned on bringing it up, especially not over text, but now was the time. "What's with all the publicity for the Institute. That doesn't seem like you."

"It's not," he says in a serious tone. "It's just part of turning public opinion around. I think my dad would have wanted us to look like the good guys."

"Just look?" She challenges.

"We do good," he asserts. "There's a lot of good work going. Important things."

"Let me guess." She pauses with her fork midair. "You're not allowed to talk about it."

"It's my company, I can do whatever I want," he smirks. "But, I really shouldn't."

"You don't know what they are!" She laughs. "They don't tell you!"

"They tell me the overall idea. I don't understand that nerdy shit anyway. Equations and chemicals and shit."

"Wow, you almost wouldn't believe you own a biomedical company." 

"Almost," he chuckles and takes a bite. 

"Is my average cheap food up to your standards?"

"It's pretty good," he concedes. "I mean, it's no  _ ravioles de foie gras _ ," he says with an obnoxiously perfect French accent.

"You really practiced that one, didn't you?" She accuses him with a grin.

"You're practically fluent, I couldn't have you correcting me in public!"

"I'm not practically fluent," she mumbles then takes a bite. Despite four years in school, she had little to no recollection of anything past the basic level. It's all a blank box now.

Roman demands an über for the ride back and she doesn't complain too much. It was pretty cold outside. 

"I don't need to check-in," he smiles softly to the desk attendant.

"You don't need to sign in, go ahead," she smiles back.

It gives Emma chills to watch him do that. He looks away to wipe his nose, surely knowing how uncomfortable it made her. It was a part of the past that they didn't speak of. After everything, it's not the strangest thing she'd seen. Watching Roman tell people what to do was pretty tame in comparison.

However, there was something eery about him being so close. To some extent she and other Peter and Destiny. They could be just two strange beings in the universe, just an anomaly. Roman is too close. He's too real to just accept his  _ talent _ . She couldn't stomach the conversation and it was much easier to ignore it. Just two normal kids hanging out, no weird powers.

Roman, on the other hand, wants to scream about it. Not necessarily to Emma, but to someone. He didn't need to involve her in all this. In defiance of all of his selfish tendencies, he kept it all to himself. It was better for her to not know. But there were selfish reasons as well. She didn't need to know everything. She would hate him, hate what he is, he's sure.

Flipping on the lights, she's not sure what the plan is and doesn't want to ask. Does he have anywhere to stay? Or is he planning on staying here? Her bed is too small for both of them, someone would surely fall out in the night. Did he even bring clothes with him?

She takes her outerwear off as he continues telling a story about Nina from HR and how  _ in his asshole  _ she was. "Your life truly is tragic," she mocks him. "It must be so hard having to treat people with respect."

"I work with idiots," he insists as he sits back on her bed. His lanky legs hang awkwardly over the edge. Emma climbs on to the bed, laying back with her legs over his lap.

"Have you considered that maybe you're the problem?"

"Absolutely not," he looks down smiling. "I'm just bored, that's all."

"You should get a hobby."

"Yeah. I'll start knitting," he says with fake excitement.

"Oh, fuck off." Emma knees at his abdomen and bit. Catching her leg, he holds it still in his lap. "I don't know, start baking or some shit."

"I have people for that."

"You and your fuck off money can fuck right off," she laughs. As far as she can tell, he hasn't been drinking that often and not using. Being left alone and bored is just the right mixture to cause an explosion. 

"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asks with a softer and serious tone.

"Not going to some gala dinner if that's what you're asking."

"No, not at all," Roman assures her. "Just wanting to plan accordingly."

"Plan for what?"

"We are getting a real dinner tomorrow night," he insists. "I didn't fly all the way to Philadelphia to not eat good food. I don't know if you remember or not, but Hemlock Grove is quite limited on its fine dining selections."

"Hey!" She stops him. "I recall many times that we both agreed that the Chinese buffet was excellent."

"I also recall getting very high before going," he reminds her. "I left in a rush so I didn't really pack anything so I think we should get matching outfits."

"I'm not wearing a matching outfit with you," she shakes her head.

"What if it's all denim?"

"Even if I said yes I know you would never do that," Emma raises her eyebrows. "You're too much of a pretty boy."

"You think I'm pretty?"

"You have a couple nice features."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she nods. Roman pushes her legs off of him and squeezes his way up to the tops of the bed with her. Emma doesn't stop him as he curls into her side like a small child and rests his head on her chest. 

They lay like that for a moment, just enjoying the silence. He subtly moves on hand down to her hip. He does it so slowly that she doesn't even notice it until it's there. Wishing he had gotten at least a beer at dinner, he bites the bullet and moves forward. Back in the spring they never spoke about it. Now, for some reason, it feels forced. 

It's protocol to start with kissing, but Roman's ready to bypass that. Fully aware and accepting his self-indulgence, he does the bare minimum. She kisses him back at first then pulls away when his hand continues to wander.

"I'm on my-"

"I don't care," he cuts her off before she can even fully form the words. 

"I do," she hisses, pushing his hands away from her waistband.

"Don't," Roman tells her softy. It's like a weight is lifted. Her head falls back to the pillow, feeling almost high. She's blissfully unaware of where he is moving and only recognizes his new place on her bed when she feels the cold air between her legs.

"The blankets," she manages to get out through the haziness. Between long blinks, she can see him digging through her room for a towel. He's only done this twice before. Now though, now he's aware of why and what exactly he's doing. It's only a biological reaction for him. He knows she's not particularly comfortable with it all but he doesn't feel bad about it. It's not his fault. 

It's carnal how quickly he pounces on the opportunity. It would be a lie if he said the timing of his trip hadn't been thought out. He would have come anyway, but this was a literal cherry on top. He doesn't bother with anything else. Her sweatshirt stays on until she begins sweating and removes it herself. He buries his annoyance at her movement and takes a deep breath. 

She tries to enjoy it, she really does. But it's too much. Too many things are happening that she doesn't know how to react to. Not only is the fear of her roommate walking in present, if she tilts her head a bit she can see Roman's hand gripping her used tampon. It makes her stomach turn a bit.

Giving it one last attempt, she blocks the sight from her eyes and tries to relax. It's then she realizes that she's not the problem. It's absolutely, 100% him. It's just bad. Tired of it all, she puts an end to it. She takes a deep breath and tries her hardest to fake a convincing orgasm.

"Stop," she says once her performance is over. "Stop," she repeats a bit more seriously. When he doesn't back away she pushes herself back on the bed. Fingers gripping hard her hips her, he looks up at her as if she's stolen something from him.

It startles her. No- it scares her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So sorry I'm bad at writing smut and even worse at writing period smut. But in my defense, the HG writers made us deal with it too.  
Anyways, comments, questions, and critiques are absolutely loved.
> 
> Sorry for any typos, I'm honestly too tired to proofread lol...


	9. Emergency Update

Hi friends,

I just wanted to drop by and let everyone know that it'll be a few days before I update again. I was admitted into the hospital a few days ago and had to have my gallbladder removed.

Much love and will see you all soon,

Elia


	10. Rivers and Roads

Every weekend is something new. It always starts the same way- finding Roman sitting in her dorm reading one of her books. Or pretending to read it. Somehow, Roman always manages to have something he has to do. Someone to meet, somewhere to go, something to see. Something she can tag along to.

Box seats at sports games, dinner parties, you name it and it's on the agenda. With enough weed and alcohol, the countless hours with rich, old, white men blur into a fun evening. Once the others have realized Roman Godfrey is not interested in socializing beyond the generic small talk, they wander away.

It's like playing dress-up. It's a video game with no plot. Just beautiful imagery, loud noises, and grand actions. She doesn't know where the clothing Roman brings her ends up at the end of the weekend, probably the trashcan. He blows through money on senseless items like pocket squares and socks. 

Every shower in her grimy communal bathroom is just a reason to be more excited. Roman stays at the same hotel every weekend. It's always a different room but never below a suite. She knows for a fact Roman has never stayed in a standard size hotel room, neither has she. 

The bathrooms are almost all identical with a freestanding tub right in the middle. It's the little luxuries in life you miss the most. Like private bathrooms, or just privacy in general. 

While not a direct transaction by any means, Emma sits in the tub thinking about how this single private moment will be invalidated by the end of the night. Every week Roman's appearance becomes more and more of a commodity. With his visibility increasing, her's is dragged along for the ride.

Returning to normal life come Monday was difficult. Of course, no one really enjoys returning to school, but this dread was different. It was the dread of someone who had just spent 48 hours being reminded that they didn't have to do it. If she left school now nothing would really change. With Roman around, there would never be any serious repercussions for her actions. 

.....

The semester has flown by quicker than Emma could have asked for. She's wearing the thickest of her winter clothes around campus and is still cold. The memory of the guy from Arizona briefly enters her mind as snow falls into her face. The poor kid must be freezing.

She only has one more class before heading home for Thanksgiving. Her suitcase is open on the floor with sweaters and shoes stuffed in every which way. There's a soft knock on the door. Jules calls out an "it's open."

Maggie has only a duffle bag around her shoulders and casually leans against the doorframe. "I just wanted to say goodbye before I head out."

"Have a good trip," Jules tells her.

"A safe trip," Emma adds. 

"When are you guys heading home?" Maggie asks.

"As soon as I get this last assignment in," she nods to her desk. "Then I'm out."

"I need to be at the airport at 6," she answers while folding a shirt.

"You guys have an airport out in butt-fuck nowhere?" 

"No," she laughs. "There's a small one about 40 minutes away."

"What airline even flies there?"

"Emma's boyfriend's flying her home so they can spend more time together," Jules explains.

"Oooooh. Boyfriend?" Maggie leans forwards. "This the guy you've been ditching us for?"

"Not my boyfriend," Emma mumbles and keeps folding.

"Sorry, my bad," Jules says sarcastically. "They're just fucking."

"Oh my fucking god," Emma groans and throws a pair of socks at her. 

"Well." Maggie looks back and forth between the two of them with a bit back smile. "Have safe travels, and eat a lot... Fuck a lot?"

"I'm going to kill myself." Emma looks up to the ceiling.

"Look, if you're not dating maybe you should lock him down. Paying to fly you home-"

"Oh! Oh! That's the best part," Jules stops her. "Private jet," she whispers.

"Do you really have to tell everyone my shit?" Emma asks with real annoyance in her voice.

"C'mon, I'm just teasing," she says. "I'm just a little jealous, that's all."

"Yeah, put up with Roman's bullshit for 17 years and tell me you're jealous."

"I'm sorry," Maggie puts a hand up. "Are you talking Roman Godfrey? Like science building Godfrey?"

"Well, technically that's his family name," Emma mumbles.

"I want to know everything when I get back," Maggie points at her. 

Emma and Jules bathe in the silence for a moment once the door is shut. Emma just keeps folding and organizing her suitcase. Jules glances up at her then back down. "I didn't mean anything by it. You know that, right?"

"I know," Emma mumbles. "I just don't need everyone knowing my business."

"Em," Jules intones. "Anyone that looks him up can find a picture of you."

"Who's going to do that, though?" She scoffs.

.....

Roman greets her in the lobby with a small hug. He's standing there, hands in the pockets of his long coat, thick scarf, and face pale. He looks sick. She reaches up to feel his forehead for a fever. He grabs it and holds it instead. "Are you sick? Don't breathe on me if you are. I have finals."

"How was your flight?" He asks interrupting her thoughts.

"It was fine," she says balling up her free sweaty palm. Flying was not her strong suit. Especially not on a small plane. Or alone. "How much did you spend on that thing?"

"You don't want to know," he chuckles. "It wasn't that much."

"Sure, Roman, _sure_." He tugs her to keep walking. His brisk pace counters her original opinion of his appearance and health.

"Are you hungry?"

"No, not really." She looks back for her luggage but can see one of the flight attendants gathering it. "Maybe when we get closer to home." 

She follows him through the rest of the tiny airport. It's designed to look like some sort of a ski lodge. There are only a handful of other people there, most dressed in expensive suits and likely heading to big corporate meetings before the holiday. She's just beginning to shake the chill from her walk on the tarmac when they exit the sliding glass doors back into the frigid night. Snow falls and swirls through the air chaotically. 

"You got a new car?" She asks as they approach a sports car that she doesn't recognize the logo of. He nods. "What happened to the Jag?"

"I decided to keep it put up for special occasions," he explains while unlocking the trunk for the flight attendant.

"Special occasions?" Emma carefully opens the passenger door and is careful not to let it slam. This car is worth more than her mother's house 3 times over.

"Well," he turns the heat up high. "It was my Dad's and I want it to stay in good condition."

"This is the car of a tool," she thinks aloud. "Aren't you worried about blowing through all your money?"

"No," he says peaking into the rearview mirror. "Why do you ask that?"

"It just seems like..." She trails off as he backs out of their parking space. Roman looks over at her, waiting for her to finish. "I just don't want to see you... I don't know? Buy a bunch of dumb shit you don't need because you can?"

"I've always done that," he points out with a smile. "Plus, it's all an investment."

"An investment?" She scoffs playfully.

"This car holds it's value. The jet makes my life a lot easier. It's all an investment."

"Flying me home makes your life a lot easier?"

"Absolutely," he nods. "And your mom's as well."

"Yeah, I guess," she mumbles. "Do you work tomorrow?" She asks, changing the subject.

"Just like a half day from home," he explains softly. "I bet your mom's excited to see you."

"Absolutely," Emma nods. "We're going to lunch tomorrow. Early birthday stuff and all..."

"What should I bring? Thursday, I mean."

"Whatever you want," she chuckles. "You don't have to bring anything."

"I want to," he asserts. 

"Okay, okay. Just bring brownies or something."

The car moves quickly along the dark highway. They're alone on the road with only a few exceptions that they zoom right past. It's dark, and with the soft music playing in the background she wants to sleep. Her eyes hang heavier with every blink. "Do you want to go home or stay over?" She hears him ask.

"I want to go home," she sits up straight, trying to wake up. "I miss my bed."

"Understood."

They make it back to Hemlock Grove in record time. It's been months since she's been home. Having missed early fall, all of the trees are barren. The only thing alive is the handful of bushes that line the porches of homes. Slowing to a stop, Roman puts the car in park before turning it off completely. Without hesitation, they both gather the couple of bags from the trunk of the car.

The front door opens and the smell of home overwhelms her senses. She'd almost forgotten what it smelt like. All of the lights are off, and when she turns them on it looks almost the same as she remembers it. It's only been a couple of months but it feels like a lifetime. Roman, seeing the comfort on her face, moves past her with her suitcase. 

She follows him upstairs, bellyflopping onto the untouched bed. The bed shifts in weight as he sits at the foot of it. Turning her head to look over her shoulder, he pats her leg. "Tired?"

"Meh. No, not really I guess." She rolls over fully. "It's too early to sleep."

"What do you want to do then?"

"I'm going to shower," she decides and sits up. "Then we'll watch a movie or something. Or you can go home. Don't feel obligated to hang out."

"I want to," he assures her. 

Once he hears the door click and water start he stands from the bed. He sits on the back porch chain-smoking and shivering in the cold. He'd tried to push himself to be a bit more energetic since the airport. He didn't realize he looked that bad, _ that _thirsty. Maybe not to everyone else, but Emma could see it and that's what mattered.

He'd been starving himself essentially. Pryce would occasionally through him a bag of blood, but there was nothing steady. He had promised Roman that he had been "working on something big," but Roman doesn't trust him. 

When he returns upstairs Emma is brushing her hair at her desk. "You should quit smoking," she says without looking up.

"Haven't heard that one in a while," he chuckles. He hadn't been smoking nearly as much as he used to, but over the weekends he's had a cigarette or two. 

"You smell like an ashtray."

"It's a new cologne," he jokes and takes a seat on her bed. He watches silently as she aggressively yanks at a knot in her hair.

"Pick out something to watch," she orders.

.....

With the credits rolling of whatever random thing Roman picked out, Emma finally feels tired. The movie itself was fine, Roman put in no effort 'picking it out.' He didn't really do movies. He didn't really do pop culture. The only things he listened to or watched were things others put on. The only songs he vaguely knew the lyrics were the ones she listens to over and over again.

"I liked coming over when we were young," Roman admits looking up to the dark ceiling. "It was always so comfy."

"Yeah?" Even though she knew this already, she urges him to continue. 

They had been mostly silent with each other since he came back around. Of course, the spoke and conversed but there was always an undertone of _ "I know what you did last summer." _That's the closest thing to a metaphor she could form. 

They exist in uncharted territory. Both occasionally wonder to themselves if they're the only people who have ever experience anything even close to what they have. Surely they must be. How could they not be? It's a mean cycle of the same obstacle. How do you casually let the existence of the indescribable pass in the background? 

It's not that she doesn't want to talk about it, which she does. Emma lives with a compulsive habit of thinking about the past and wanting to scream about it. In incomprehensible words, she wants to yell and scream at the universe in frustration over it. And not only about what happened to her, about what happened around her. The deaths, Peter, Letha... Then it passes for a while and she's fine.

But, in relation to Roman- they've spoken about it. They've spoken about it a lot. Now, a year later, she just wants to exist with it. It's not who they are, it's not what their relationship is, but it's part of it. She doubts Roman feels the same way. Sometime's he seems devoid of complex emotions besides anger. She'll roll her eyes and say to herself _ he's such a boy _. But he does feel that way.

_ How many times are we going to say that to each other? _

_ Probably until we know how to handle things. _

"Yeah," he says interrupting her thoughts. "Your mom made us sandwiches and pizza rolls. She never made us drink water," he remembers with a laugh.

"No, never," Emma laughs back. "We always had soda."

"She wasn't like Olivia, with her salads and exercise." Roman tugs at the covers. 

"Do you remember when she signed me up for gymnastics?" Emma slightly giggles at the memory. With her eyes drooping further and further, she can remember a short woman trying to teach her how to cartwheel.

"Yes, you were horrible at it."

"I'd like to see you try," she groans. "I have the weirdest fucking memories? You know that?"

"Imagine living in it. All the time," he snorts. 

"I can't wait to relive it all in therapy one day," she pushes out one last shot at him before accepting sleep. She's almost there, in a haze, when he shuffles around a bit. 

"Em?" He asks quietly, unsure if she's even awake.

"Hm?" She forces her eyes open.

"Do you remember when Shelley died?" He asks. His voice sounds breathy and weak. Her gut reaction is to say _ you don't know that. She could be alive _. But it would be a lie. There's not even a slim bit of hope in her that the girl is still alive. There's no way she could be.

"I remember you telling me," she says. "When we came back here."

"No," he whispers. "I mean the first time."

"The first time?"

"You don't remember?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

"I'm just tired... It's nothing."

.....

"Roman! It's good to see you," Kay greets him as if she hadn't seen him the day before. In her defense: they were both half-asleep in the early morning when she returned home from work.

"You too," he smiles and offers a hug. "I was going to make a pie." He holds up a grocery bag. "Then I realized I don't know how to make a pie."

"That's fine. We can make it here. Come in." Kay waves him in fully. He follows her into the kitchen where Emma is seated at the table peeling sweet potatoes. "Why don't you just help Em for a minute. When we get the oven heated we can start on the pie."

Roman nods happily and takes a seat across from her. "What can I do?"

"Can you just cube them?"

"Yes," he says confidently. Grabbing a knife he, with great focus, begins.

"You're cutting them too big," Emma comments.

"There's a right size?"

"Yeah, they're going to be mashed."

"So?"

"So, if they're that big they'll take forever to boil."

"Boil?" He quirks an eyebrow.

"Yeah, where it get's really hot. The water bubbles. 100 Celsius. 212 Fahrenheit."

"I know what boiling is!" He asserts. "I didn't know that's how you mash them."

"You are completely useless." 

"Be nice," she hears her mom call from the oven.

.....

Emma sits on the floor in front of the coffee table unwrapping Christmas decorations from one of the plastic bins. She's thankful they'd pulled them out before eating. There's no way she could move enough to get them down now. Even Roman is sunk down into the couch with a hand resting on his bloated stomach. 

"Alright, kiddos," Kay sighs gathering her things. "I am heading to work."

"Okay," Emma says looking up. "I'm going to get this all sorted so we can put it out tomorrow."

"Sounds like a plan." She unlocks the door. "It was good to see you, Roman."

"You too." He smiles back at her.

Emma pulls out a few ornaments and unwraps them from their tissue paper. They only had a few 'special ornaments.' There was her grandmother's crucifix, Kay's baby ornament, and Emma's own. 

It's one of the few things with everyone's name on it. Everyones. Emma assumes her mother found it too sentimental to throw away or desecrate. It was in complete contrast to many of the arts and crafts she had made as a child. And in contrast to many of her baby photos. All of which most likely ended up in the trash with their final resting place being a dump 10 miles south.

"I have tomorrow off," he practically moans through his stuffed body. "Wanna do something?"

"It's going to be insane out tomorrow with Black Friday and all."

"I never understood black Friday," Roman comments.

"You've also never been poor," she points out with a smirk. "You still haven't shown me your house."

"I offered Wednesday night."

"You did," she concedes and begins to clean up her mess.

"You wanna go now?" Roman grunts as he forces himself to sit up. Emma sits up straighter to look out the window. The sun has already set and while there's no fresh snow, the only snow swirls in the wind.

"Do you have a hot tub?" She asks already know that yes, yes, of course, Roman Godfrey has a hot tub.

Emma had expected a grand tour of the place. Roman doesn't offer, he just takes off his coat and locks the door behind him. "Roman," she sighs. "This is a beautiful house." He smiles proudly. "A very depressing beautiful house." His face falls.

"What would you have me do?"

"First off," Emma begins. "I would paint the walls."

"They are painted."

"They're all painted the same color grey," she corrects him. "You need different colors. And also, all the art you have here is really morbid."

"I thought you like morbid things?" He crosses his arms and leans back.

"I don't like morbid things," she exclaims. "Not in art at least. What is this?" She points to an abstract painting that looks vaguely like a man screaming. "This is horrifying."

He steps behind her to take her coat off. She wanders around the living room looking at the few other things he has up. There is no sign of real human life. There's no touch of human life, no photos or trinkets. Not even a wrinkled blanket. It's perfectly clean, all thanks to the maids, but it's too clean.

"I can feel your beady little eyes judging me," he says from across the room.

"Isn't that what you brought me over for?" She looks back at him.

"No," he counters. "You asked if I had a hot tub."

"I remember you saying I could help you decorate."

"Get it in writing next time, kid," he smirks the ducks out of the living room. Well, ducks as much as is possible in the open floor plan. She follows him up the stairs and tries to soak up the imagery. Or lack thereof. Upstairs is even blander than downstairs. "What's in there?" She nods towards the heavily locked door.

"Oh, boring stuff," he says without a thought. "Family paperwork, valuables, that kind of stuff."

"No secret jewels or bewitched artifacts?"

"Nope," he chuckles. "No mummies either."

"Where are you taking me to?"

"Hot tub," he retorts. She had been mostly kidding earlier when she asked. 

"After a long day on the mountain?" She jokes. "I need my skis waxed."

"I don't get your pop culture references," he reminds her. "Not a nerd."

"That's not being a nerd! That's being a human being who exists and watches things."

"Sounds pretty lame." He opens the last door in the hallway. 

"Your hot tub is in your bedroom?" She looks around his room skeptically. Somehow his house is like a descent further into darkness. The walls here are a darker grey, the bedding black, and red. In the near dark, it reminds her of a coffin. When Roman gets all the lights on it's not as bad and it looks a little lived in. 

"Not in it. On the balcony."

"Shouldn't it be somewhere where people don't-" She stops. "Yep. Seems about right."

"I don't like strangers in my house," he defends himself. They stand in silence for a moment before he can't stand it. It makes his skin crawl. He opens his mouth to offer her a shirt or something but she's already pulling her own off.

Roman blinks in disbelief at how bold she is. _ Is this what we're doing now? Just going for it. _She had actually just started getting undressed to get in the hot tub. She wasn't even going to go past her underwear. He doesn't know that though and jumps into action. 

It's not a long transition from standing and to the bed. It becomes obvious within a matter of seconds that there's an issue. With every movement, she sliding around on the silk sheets. Roman can ignore it, and with enough of a grip, it's minimal.

"These sheets are horrible," she laughs trying to sit straight again.

"They're not that bad. You're exaggerating."

"I am not!"

"I like them," he defends himself. "They're sexy."

"Anything you have to defend as being sexy isn't sexy," she chuckles. "Do the silk sheets get you in the mood for when you jerk off?" Emma continues. Roman has always had a strict 'no women in my house, and especially not my bed policy' that she doubts has changed. Was he even hooking up with any else these days? She shoves the question away before it becomes a solid thought in her brain.

Emma examines the sheets again. He knows she won't let it go. Throwing her over his shoulder, he ignores her protests. She wiggles around until she's thrown down onto a bed in a guest room. "Happy?"

"No," she continues laughing. She stops abruptly at his unexpected reentrance. Hard, fast, and deep. A welcomed l retribution for teasing him. It doesn't last long. 

"Don't go," he says. Her hand reaches forward to push his damp hair back.

"I'm not?"

"Don't go back to school," he pants. "Stay here, stay here with me. Don't leave. Don't leave me."

"Roman?" He hears the voice in the haze. He can hear himself speaking too. He doesn't sound like himself. Her face is full concern and she reaches up towards him only to stop midway and lower her hand. "Roman?"

He doesn't stop repeating himself until he's collapsing forward. Emma holds him still with one arm and uses her other hand to rub his back. She's not sure what's happening but it somethings wrong.

"I- I don't know what came over me," he explains with a panicked chuckle. "I didn't mean it. You know that, right?" When she doesn't answer it panics him more. "I just- I felt-" he struggles. "Forget it. Forget what I said." Emma nods obediently before smiling. 

He wishes he could forget it. Or remember it really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Y'all I can't even lie, being Roman's sugar baby is the fucking dream.
> 
> How do you guys feel about the sort of modernization of things? I feel like Roman's public life was really glossed over in the show apart from that one magazine cover? It has a little part in the story, but I can ditch most of it if y'all aren't into it. I'm just not sure how it's playing out for everyone.
> 
> Also: I want to thank everyone for your kind comments after my surgery last week! Despite being down one organ, I'm doing a lot better!!


	11. Paper Doll

The loud _BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ _wakes her up with a jump. The phone vibrates across the dresser and lights up the darkened room. Crawling out of the blankets and into the cold, Emma grabs it from its place and dashes back into covers. "Happy birthday!"

"Aren't you up a bit early?" She moans and tries to wake up more. Looking over she's glad to see Jules' is already gone. Emma's really not in the mood to take the call to the hallway.

"I'm a businessman, Emily," Roman tries to sound authoritative. "I do business. Early bird gets the worm, you know."

"I'm going to hang up," Emma threatens.

"You won't get your present with that attitude."

"We don't do presents, Roman," she reminds him.

"New tradition: we do present's now."

"I don't want to do presents," she protests.

"This one's a little selfish so..."

"Like all things you do?"

"Yes, like all things," he laughs.

"Fine. What's the present."

"It'll come later," he promises and laughs at her groan.

"Goddamn you," she huffs. "Are you coming up this weekend?"

"No." She pouts to herself. "Study for your finals."

Like he said, the present does come later. It's at the front desk of her dorm and she grabs it on her way back from class. It's very Roman in its minimalistic packaging. Just brown parchment paper and a name tag. It's not very heavy and she waits until she's back in her dorm to open it.

She unwraps it rather carelessly, expecting it to be something dumb like a scarf or a gift card. It's wrapped pretty tightly and she has to use her fingernails to pull at the tape on the box. When it's finally open she rolls her eyes and huffs. Her guess wasn't too far off and her hands are already on her phone. Two rings and he answers.

"Roman. Why'd you get me a bathing suit?" She asks unamused and already knowing the answer.

"Hot tub," he quips back.

"Mhmm," she replies.

"It's cold as fuck," he complains. "They say it's going to be the coldest winter since 1982," he babbles. "A lot of snow too."

"Cut to the chase," she groans.

"We're gonna go get some sun." She doesn't have to respond for him to know what face she's making. "Come on. It's mainly for me. I need a break. I need a tan. I need to drink vodka out of a coconut."

"I feel like coconut rum would be the better choice."

"There we go!" He smiles. "I knew you wouldn't fight me too much."

"That wasn't a yes," she protests knowing she will say yes. Even though she hates accepting things from Roman, always leaving any clothing he brings her at his hotel room, a vacation sounds very nice. She hasn't been on one since Olivia took them to Hawaii in middle school. And that wasn't exactly a fun time.

"Oh, I wasn't asking for a yes. I knew you'd say yes, I just wasn't sure how much of a pain in the ass you'd be about it."

"I'm going to continue being a pain in the ass about it," she assures him.

"Why are you so against fun?"

"Please tell me we're doing something normal."

"We're doing something normal."

"Like a hotel in Florida. Normal by my standards."

"Okay. We are not doing something normal, then." She can hear his smugness. He thinks he's so funny.

......

"Um," Emma looks around the dimly lit room. Her eyes are still pierced by the projector but at least most of the faces are blocked. "Something that I found particularly interesting while researching was that there isn't as much of a pop culture fascination with the Celtic region than there is in say in Greek or Roman mythology. Most of the written sources from-from Eastern travelers like Caesar."

Emma mumbles through the next few slides only stopping to scratch her head once. "Then, for the most part, I focused on a couple types of faeries and the Cailleach."

"What that?" She hears her professor ask.

"It literally means hag," she chuckles. "She's also called Beira, Queen of Winter. She's a weather deity. There a lot of other deities that I liked, but she has a lot of connections with physical locations and landscapes so it was a little easier to piece it together with my family."

"Very good, Emma. Thank you," Dr. Lowenstein starts a small clap before turning on the lights. Emma gathers her things and returns to her seat. She glances at the clock on the wall. There are only 3 or 4 more presentations before her first semester of college is officially over.

After the class is released Emma waits on Dr. Lowenstein. A couple of other students, ones that were very talkative during the semester, are saying their goodbyes. It takes a few minutes but eventually they clear out and he smiles as she approaches. "Good job today."

"Thanks," she says humbly.

"I look forward to reading the final paper."

"I think I am going to sign up for another class next semester. If I can find room for it."

"That's great! What are you looking at? Quite a few of them are full by now, but I might be able to pull some strings. Of course, if you're thinking of a minor you'll have to go back and take 101..." He thinks aloud.

"I'm not sure about any of that," Emma chuckles nervously.

"Well, I'm offering two classes that I think you'd find interesting. One of them is American Folklore and the other is The Anthropology of Magic. That's a first time class for me. Then Dr. Mallory offers a great Urban Folklore class."

"That all sounds really cool."

"Think it over and shoot me an email in the next few days. I'll see what I can get done for you. But make sure it's in the next few days, I'm going on a trip into the middle of nowhere."

"Will do," she smiles to him. "Have fun on your break."

"You as well."

"Dr. Lowenstein?" She asks before turning away. "Where are you from?"

"Ukraine. We immigrated to the States after the great famine."

......

Emma finds out quickly upon arrival home that Roman was being honest. Their trip would be far from normal. She only has a bit over 24 hours before she has to turn around and get right back on a plane. Kay is not exactly thrilled, but she tries to keep it to herself. Emma sees it, though, and feels bad. Roman seemed to hog all of her time when she was home.

She rarely thinks of it from her mother's perspective. Was it weird for her to come home some mornings and just see a luxury car sitting in her driveway? Or that her daughter had gone on vacations to places neither had ever heard of. Was she ever embarrassed to be working long nights? Emma never felt like she was.

Maybe she just hadn't noticed.

When Roman tells her it's a 15-hour flight she almost chokes. "How could any trip possibly be worth that, Roman. How?" He promises her that it will be fine but she dreads it anyways.

Most people would be concerned about seeming ungrateful. Emma is concerned about seeming any sort of way. She tries to not think about this as Roman giving her something. That makes her uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable. That's why at some point she just rolls with it and lets him make decisions.

The return to the airport late into the night. They're the last ones there, even though she anticipated being the only ones there. Roman, who was dressed in slacks and a button-up, is greeted by the others in their business clothing. Emma stands behind him and waits for everyone to move inside. Shivering in her yoga pants and jacket, no one seems to notice her.

After what feels like hours, Roman motions her forward. Before they get too close she tugs at his sleeve for attention. "I didn't know anyone else would be going," she stands up a bit taller to say it quietly.

"It's just a couple of assistants and stuff."

"So you'll still be working?"

"I have to work a little bit. Someone's got to pay for all of this," he shrugs with a smirk. "Oh, don't huff at me.

"Don't you-" Roman puts his hands up.

"Oh, come on. Loosen up," he laughs as she slaps at his arm. She follows behind him to their seats. "You can go back to sleep if you want to."

"I'm good."

......

14 hours, three edibles, a bottle of Pinot Noir, and several cigarettes later they have landed. Looking out from the car window Emma decides that this, no matter how picture-perfect, was not worth a 15-hour flight. She hadn't even factored jet lag into it yet.

Roman booked them one of those overwater bungalows and that causes Emma to roll her eyes. '_Why wouldn't I? I have the money.' _She can hear him say in her head. The entire first day is wasted by oversleeping on a nap and ordering room service for dinner. When it's time to actually go to bed, Emma is shocked to see how many suitcases are sitting in the hallway.

"What are these extra suitcases?" She kicks her foot in their direction.

"Oh, just some extra clothes."

"Do you have a secret identity I should be aware of."

"No." He grabs a few of them and pulls them towards the closet. "Some of it's for you."

Emma grabs the one suitcase she had brought and follows him. "I packed plenty," she says taking a seat next to the suitcase.

"You don't have to unpack," he tells her before she even unzips it. "Someone will come to hang everything up tomorrow."

"It's not a big deal. I need stuff anyways," She responds almost astonished by his laziness. But is it laziness if it's the norm for you?

"If you insist," he sighs. "I think the grey and the little blue ones are yours too." He yawns and leaves her in the closet. She immediately moves towards the mystery luggage and digs through it. One is just shoes and the other is filled with brand new designer clothes.

"Roman," she calls. His feet patter until she can see him at the door. Having made himself comfy, he leans against the door in only his boxers and with his eyes droop."Why?"

"I thought you could use some stuff for dinners or brunch."

"What's wrong with how I dress?"

"Nothing," he says. She quirks her head at how obvious of a lie it is. "You dress fine, but y'know." He motions around the room. "I thought you'd maybe want to fit in with... the crowd."

"Are you afraid that being poor is contagious?" He laughs darkly at that.

"Wear what you want," he shrugs wanting to go back to bed. "Wear your clothes, or don't wear anything. I really don't care." He takes a long blink before turning around and leaving her alone.

"Weird," she mumbles to herself and continues unpacking.

Emma's not sure how long she sits in the closet. At this point, she's finished all of her clothing and is halfway done with Roman's. It doesn't feel like it's been that long, and maybe it hasn't, but she's in the zone. It feels good to see everything organized by color and occasion. She's so caught up in it that the sound of footsteps makes her jump.

Without a single thought or hesitation, Roman walks straight into the closet and throws her over his shoulder. "I'm in the middle-"

"Bedtime," he says groggily.

"Put me down," she says while smacking at his back.

"Bedtime," he repeats as he sets her on the bed.

"It's going to bother me if I don't finish it," she protests and sits up to leave.

"No. Bedtime." Like an anaconda, all of his limbs are wrapped around her and held tight. She wiggles but he gives no slack.

"Why is your body temperature so high?" She whines but in all honesty, she is very comfortable. The balcony doors are parted just a bit letting the cool breeze in and the sound of the ocean is _pretty calming, I guess._

_......_

She sits on one of the lounge chairs reading a book. Every few minutes she peaks back to confirm that yes, Roman is still pacing around on the phone. The group of people that flew here with them sit at the dining room table vigorously typing away on their laptops.

They had been here three days and had been like this every single one. They'd wake up, have breakfast, then he'd disappear until the afternoon. When he'd saunter back from whatever meetings and conferences he had he'd be followed by Jenna, the 'social media manager.'

Emma scoffs when she first hears that. She understood why Roman might benefit from it. He's a young, attractive billionaire. But a bio-medical company? On what planet would people care about that?

Despite her annoyance, she'll deal with it for Roman. He had brought her all the way here, smiling for a few dumb photo's is the least she can do in return. That thought comes to her head organically and she tries to shake it. Since when is their friendship measured in who owed the other?

"You'll end up with tan lines," he jokes once the door is shut.

"If I took it off I'd end up with my tits out on your Instagram feed," she nods towards the small group gathering their belongings at the table.

"They're on their way out." Roman takes a seat on the edge of the chair. "Are you at least having fun?"

"Well." She shuts her book. "I did get ditched on a vacation that I didn't want to go on... But I am very drunk so the consensus is neutral."

"Doesn't sound too bad."

"It's okay." Roman turns to look out at the horizon. "Probably the best place to be ditched at."

They only leave their little private world to get dinner. She would never admit it, but he was right. Looking around, she did fit in better in the clothing he had packed for her. However, something still sat wrong with her.

"Roman," she leans in to speak quietly. "Do you ever feel like people are watching you?"

"Almost always," he says then takes a drink. "But I'm also incredibly attractive so..." She kicks him under the table.

"I'm not kidding."

"Seriously, you're being paranoid. No one is looking at you," he assures her. "You're just stressed, finish your drink."

With one last look around, she does as he says. He's right, no one is looking at her. And she has been stressed all semester- _but that's not it._

_......_

On the rare occasion she does get on social media she checks Roman's 'account.' Today, she opens it and grits her teeth. There she is in all her glory, ass cheeks barely contained by her bikini. A photo she wasn't aware had been taken. She had expected the normal posed with a smiling photo they did. Not this.

She's fed up with it all. Maybe it's an overreaction. Maybe it's the culmination of all the time alone, the jet lag, and the months of building confidence in her body only for it to be displayed on the internet for everyone. Without a thought, she stands from her lounge chair and stomps towards the door.

At the table, everyone looks up and the noise of the door jolting open. It's a sliding door, so at it's loudest it still doesn't create the effect she intended. Phone in hand, she stops in front of Roman. He didn't post it, probably didn't know it was posted, but she was going to go to him. He would side with her. This was his problem to fix.

"What the fuck is this?" She shoves the phone close to his face. It's so close has to back away to see it.

"A photo," he says confused.

"I don't like my ass plastered on the internet."

"It's not," he insists. "You're being dramatic."

"If you want-" Jenna tries to mediate.

"She's fine," Roman stops her. "Don't worry about it."

"Stop trying to play tough because your employees are here," she sneers. "Take that shit down."

With that, she walks away to the bedroom. Not the one they've been sharing, the one that was supposed to be hers. Thankful that there's a real door on it, she slams it with a rattle.

She wants Roman to come apologize but she knows he won't. He's going to keep acting like he's the tough CEO that he wants to be. Like the one he had been getting away with until she was around. It's almost an hour later when she hears the crowd leaving and Roman approaching her door.

"What the fuck was that?" He asks before the door is fully open.

"What the fuck was that?" She asks back.

"You knew people were taking photos."

"I didn't know my ass was going to be on full display," she argues, sitting up fully. "Also, I can clearly see where they photoshopped my waist."

"So?" He remarks. "They just wanted it to look good."

"So, I don't look good normally?"

"That is not what I said."

"It is!"

"It is not! You're being ridiculous, you know that? It's not the end of the world. It's one photo. That's it. Is asking you for one thing on the vacation I took you on too much for you? We are on the other side of the fucking globe, couldn't you relax for like half a second? You're being a real brat," he concludes. She doesn't like his tone, the way he's addressing her like a child. _Brat? _Just because he acts like he has the emotional depth of a mule doesn't mean she does.

"I'm not some whore that's going to play along with you," she hisses and stands. "And I mean that in a literal way."

"Emma."

"Don't _Emma _me," she mimics him. "If you want to hang out with someone who's going to pose for your dumb fucking photos, and let you play dress up with them, and say _yes sir_, and _I'm sorry daddy_\- I'm sure there are plenty of girls just dying for that opportunity. But don't fucking look here," she points at herself.

"Are you saying you don't want to be friends anymore?" He asks and sounds like a small child. Like a boy on a playground.

"I'm saying that if this friendship is going to continue you better humble yourself real fuckin' fast."

"And if I don't?" He snaps back to his signature Roman Godfrey attitude.

With her face threatening to start twitching, she turns around and puts on her sandals. She doesn't respond, she just makes a clear path to the front door.

"Where are you going?" He calls after her.

"I'm going for a walk."

She's not sure where she's headed. The resort was much larger than she remembered it being on the way in. When she's tired of walking she does what she does best: drinks away her feelings.

At the bar, she can feel a pair of eyes on her. With a subtle glance over her shoulder, she sees a couple in the corner looking at her. They look away quickly. She shakes it off with the excuse that it probably was a coincidence. But then she feels it again and catches them again.

She downs her margarita and is about to stand up and ask this couple _what the fuck _their problem was. Before she can stand a body blocks her. It's a middle-aged man. "Fight on your honeymoon?"

"Huh?" She asks looking around him. The couple has cleared out quickly.

"You look sad and angry. I figured you had a fight on your honeymoon." He takes a seat next to her.

"Oh," she squints at him. "I'm not married."

"Well, I just wanted to offer my advice. I can recognize that face, it's the same one my wife makes when I piss her off," he laughs. Emma grinds her teeth to a fake smile and looks for an escape. In what scenario would she want some random guy at a bar's advice?

"What's your advice?" She asks trying to get it over with and continue drinking.

"Don't underestimate how dumb men are. Our feet have taken up residence in our mouths." He says before asking for a beer.

"Isn't that incredibly dismissive of an entire gender?" She asks with a sassy tone and motions for a refill in her margarita. "And that's just an overall shitty excuse. I don't try and play my mistakes off as just _being dumb_. I own up to my shit and you probably should too." Emma stands with her drink, squeezing past him.

She can hear the wind before she can feel it. That's always the case in these tropical locations. The wind is chilly and followed by a crack of thunder. That's her signal to stand up straight and head back. Who knows how long the rain will last. Even though returning to Roman isn't ideal she refuses to get stranded in the lobby.

Emma makes it to her room without drawing any attention to herself. Roman's nowhere to be found and she's not going looking for him. He doesn't make himself known until she's laying in bed with her eyes closed. Opening them, she can see light beginning to spill in from the opening door.

"Come to bed," he says meekly.

"I am in bed."

"Are you just going to sleep in your swimsuit?" She doesn't answer. He sighs. "C'mon."

"If I can't trust you over something this small, how can I about anything else? You're supposed to have my back."

"I do have your back, but those are my employees. I have an appearance of authority that I have to uphold. You should have just told me, I would have taken care of it."

"It shouldn't have happened in the first place." She rolls over to look at him.

"It's not a big deal," he tells her. "Come to bed and go to sleep."

The next thing she sees is the blinding light of the bathroom. There's a vague memory of following Roman to bed and going to sleep but there's no memory of making it to the cold tile floor. It's freezing in the bathroom, or at least it is to her. Roman seems fine as he sits next to her with her forehead wrinkled in concern.

Coming fully to her senses, she feels dried tears on her cheeks. The smell of vomit seems to suffocate her until she's sick again. This time she's met with the sight of blood dripping from her nose onto the white toilet seat. A thick layer of cold sweat soaks into the clothing.

"I'll get you some pajamas," he announces softy. He leans down to wipe the excess blood from her nose. He makes sure he's out of sight before sucking his thumb clear of it.

She takes the moment to splash her face with cold water. Even with the shock upon contact, her mind renders blank. "What happened?" She asks.

"You probably just didn't eat dinner and drank too much," Roman theorizes as he returns with a clean shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! First off I wanted to say that I created a Tumblr to use as a mood board while I write. I had used a Pinterest for BaF but I thought something more public could be fun. I also thought it would be fun if anybody wanted to send asks or anything through there. I love interacting with everyone so feel free to send asks or anything!
> 
> I had a whole elaborate vacation planned for them, but I felt like it wasn't really pushing the plot forward. Either way, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter. I'm really really excited for the next one
> 
> 😬😬😬
> 
> https://eliaelliot.tumblr.com  
It can be a lil laggy btw.
> 
> Much love!!!


	12. Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thank you for letting me write my weird ass TMI story. I'm sorry for all the cringe things I make the characters to hahaha.
> 
> Anyways, much much much love. Thank you for all of your support as always.
> 
> Also... Please feel free send me high school!Roman prompts on tumblr. I started rewatching Weeds and Silas Botwin has major RGE (Roman Godfrey Energy)

The small bit of time between Christmas and New Years is indescribably empty. Suddenly you notice the grey sludge in the snow and it's not so cheerful anymore. Then the lights and decorations are taken and everything seems darker. Everyone rushes out to exchange their presents for things they like and the stale sound of holiday music still plays in the mall.

Then New Years comes. There's champagne and drunken laughter that can only be quieted by the yelling of the countdown. When you wake up the next morning the world is so different than before. This day that human's decided deserved significance feels significant. The snow still has sludge on it, but you remember that it's only a matter of time before it melts away.

It's between those two dates that Emma's concerns and confusion bubble over.

Christmas day was the first day she had seen Roman since they got back. It's the end of the fiscal year for the Institute and he's been working non-stop. Even on the weekends, he's busy flying to meetings and holiday parties with investors. He had offered for her to come along, but Emma felt guilty leaving her mom.

He shows up in time for breakfast. Kay stops in the middle of mixing pancake batter to greet him. She audibly gasps when she sees him. Almost pushing Emma out of the way, she puts her hand to Roman's forehead. "You look just awful."

"Thanks," he chuckles.

"I'm serious, Roman," she says. "Have you been to a doctor? Have a sore throat?"

"I'm just a bit wore out," he explains. "I've been busy."

"I don't buy it," Kay mumbles. "Did you get a flu shot?" He nods. "Why don't you sit down, do you want some coffee? Orange juice?"

"I'm okay. Tthank you, though." He does as she says and sits on the couch. Emma looks him over again. Her mother wasn't exaggerating, he really looked horrible. He's as pale as a sheet of paper and his eyes are sunk in deep. He looks lethargic but not tired.

The next night he looks fine. He picks her up for dinner as they'd planned. He eats his sushi and seems to be feeling good. He tells her that he got a really good night of sleep and not to worry. But she does worry.

"I got you a present," he says on the ride home, biting back a smile.

"I don't want a present."

"Too bad. Close your eyes." Emma huffs but complies.

"You know Christmas was yesterday, right?"

"I am fully aware of the date," he snorts back. It had been a part of the plan yesterday, but it fell through. After dinner, he was going to bring her over and give it to her. She doesn't need to know what he did with his night instead.

With her eyes still closed, Roman pulls into his driveway and parks the car. He gets out to guide her out of the car.

"I got it used," he explains. "I wanted to get you something new but I knew you'd bitch about it."

"Can I open my eyes," she sighs.

"Yes."

Looking out into illuminated driveway, she sees a car that is clearly for her.

"Thank you," says sincerely. 

"Wait, what? You're not going to complain about it?"

"I didn't say that," she sasses. "But why?"

"I wanted you to finally have your own car," he says as she walks around. "You've always relied on me, or your mom, or Ally... I just thought it would be cool for you to be able to do your own thing. Plus, you can come home whenever you want now."

"There it is," she chuckles.

"It was a little self-serving, I'll admit that."

"Thank you," she says again giving him a side hug. "And thank you for not getting it new."

"Of course. And look." He points. "There are even some paint chips to prove it."

......

Emma hasn't seen Roman in a few days. She lingers on the physical and emotional change she'd seen in him. It wasn't okay and it wasn't normal. Maybe her mother, or other people, would see it and think it was a cold. The frequency and speed of the changes is something they don't see. And it's something he can't hide.

It's not normal and she needs to get to the bottom of it.

Emma knocks on the old door and it's opened almost instantly. "Long time, no see," Destiny says as if she had anticipated her arrival. Emma had sucked up her fears and anxieties to come here. It had been a long time. "Come on in."

"I didn't know you were still here," Emma admits sheepishly. "I thought you had left-"

"I've been around but I've got business here. And a lease."

"Where'd you go?" Emma asks and follows her further into the apartment.

"A couple of family reunions, a wedding or two, and one very, _very _bad birthday party for a child."

"Was it your wedding?" Emma asks and nods to her finger.

"No." Destiny smiles looking down at it. "It's just an engagement ring. No wedding band."

"Oh," Emma mouths and looks at again. "Who?"

"A childhood friend. We were reunited randomly at a party and it just..." She can hear the excitement in Destiny's voice. She wants to tell everyone the story but bites back "Anyways, what are you doing here? Did you need something?" She takes extra caution to not sound abrasive. It had to have been something important for her to come.

"It's going to sound stupid," Emma bites at her lip uncomfortably.

"I'm sure it's no more stupid than being told werewolves exist," Destiny jokes back.

"I think there's something wrong with Roman," she lowers her voice and looks around as if someone might be listening.

Destiny wants to laugh at that. _Yeah, you think? I can tell you about a million things wrong with that kid_. But she doesn't. "What do you mean?"

"I mean..." She looks around the room again.

"My apartments not bugged, scouts promise," Destiny assures.

"I kn- it doesn't matter." She shakes it off. "He just looks really sick. Back in July... I hadn't seen him in a few months then, but back in July I went to the tower." Destiny nods her to continue on. "He looked fine. He actually looked really healthy, like he'd put on weight and his face was bright. But the next time I saw him-"

"When was that?"

"Late September. But, he looked kind of sick but not too bad... But, Destiny when I saw him on Thanksgiving I thought he had pneumonia or something. He looked like was going to die. Then he was fine. Then at Christmas it was really bad. Like, my mom wanted to take him to the hospital. And now, I saw him last night and he was fine. Color back in his face, eyes bright." Destiny nods as she tries to follow along.

"Was he acting normal?" Destiny asks then chuckles. "By Roman's standards, I mean."

"Eh," she shrugs. "He being normal but it was off a little bit. His eyes are so sunk in. He looks horrible."

"So, maybe he has a cold?" Destiny asks. She knows the truth of Roman's fluctuating health, but why would Emma ask her this? Why not ask a doctor. Or her own mother at that. "Why are you asking me."

"You know why," Emma swallows. "And I need to know why."

"I don't know what you mean."

"You told me before that he has no idea what he is. What did you mean?"

"Goddamnit," Destiny swears under her breath. She had said that exact thing almost a year ago. "Emma, you don't need to worry about him. Looks are deceiving. I promise you, he is fine."

"That doesn't answer my question."

"Have you been seeing things?" She asks abruptly.

"Answer my question," Emma demands.

"You're a guest in my apartment," she asserts. "Have you been seeing things?"

"No."

"Has Roman?" She asks. Emma can't follow Destiny's drastic change in mood. "Has Roman been seeing things?"

"No. I don't know? I don't think so," Emma says. "He hasn't said anything. What's going on?"

"Peter's seeing thing," Destiny admits with a drop in her voice.

"Peter?" The name has a distant familiarity. It's as if he's faded from her memory a bit.

"Yeah. He's having dreams again. You know how Roman and him had that weird thing."

"Another Vargulf?" She gulps.

"No, no, nothing like that. I don't know what it means, but I do know Peter's going to go poking his head into things he shouldn't. If Roman's having them too, he'll be doing the same."

"Is Peter here?"

"No," Destiny sighs. "He was in Kentucky last time I heard from him. I'll see him next week."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, fourth cousin's wedding in Ohio. I'm going to talk to him there."

"I doubt it's anything serious. I think we would know about it by now."

"I do too," Destiny agrees. "It's nothing, but Peter's going to make it into something."

"I'll try and find out if Roman's seeing anything." Emma crosses her arms and gulps. "Why won't you tell me? I need to know. I need to know how to help."

"Because, despite how much I hate the fucker, I respect his privacy. He'd tell you if he wanted to. He's not hurting you, right?" Emma shakes her head. 

"That makes me think the worst."

"Good," Destiny quips. "You're on the right track then."

She had assumed Roman had just gotten better at his cover-ups. He probably had some of his cronies from the tower take care of it. From the descriptions, Emma had given her it sounds like he's starving himself. He's waiting as long as he possibly can before feeding again. _Maybe the fucker still has some humanity in him_. In her opinion, there's nothing much more dangerous than a starved upir. Either way, Destiny is sure another person has gone missing without a trace.

......

Emma doesn't sleep well that night. It's as if Destiny had snapped the rubber band and the universe had reacted. The vibrations radiate through the barriers she'd put up around her mind and awakes the memories. She had never forgotten her dreams, but it was hard to remember exactly how the felt.

She doesn't remember the dreams she has that night. Instead, she awakes frequently with the feelings they'd left her with. Removed, trapped, and depleted. She'll wake in a haze, toss and turn, then fade back away into sleep. In the morning she is greeted by a sharp pain in her back that spreads like fire.

Before even getting out of bed, she calls Roman. No surprise, it goes to voicemail. "Hey," she starts. There's a long drawn out silence before she speaks again. "Just calling because I haven't heard from you in a few days. I wanted to make sure everything's okay, and if we're still on for New Years tonight... Uh- just try and text me if you can. I'm worried."

It's late that night, long after her mom has left, that there's a knock on the door. There's only one person who would come over that late. Her assumption is confirmed when she sees him standing on the dark porch waiting for her to answer. "Why do you never call before coming over?"

"I like to know that you'll open the door for me anyway," he jokes before coming in. He bounces on the balls of his feet and in the light his eyes seem wider than usual. "What time is it? Is it too late?"

"Roman," she says following behind him. "Are you high?"

"No?" She raises an eyebrow in disbelief. "Really, I'm not. Promise."

"Okay," she says skeptically. "It's 11:00."

"Good, good," he sighs and unzips his coat.

"What's going on?"

"What do you mean?" He asks innocently.

"Where have you been all day? How do you not know what time it is?"

"I've been really busy," he assures her. "You're in pajamas. Go get ready." When she doesn't move he pushes her by her shoulders towards the steps.

"I don't feel like going out anymore," she says as she keeps her feet planted. In some pathetic attempts to pretend things are like the used to be, they had agreed to go to a party. An old school party, one with all of the other recent graduates.

"Why not?"

"I don't feel like socializing." She finally shrugs him off her shoulder.

"Okay," he accepts. "Do you want me to go?"

"No," Emma rubs her forehead. "You can stay, I just don't feel like going out."

"What do you want to do instead."

"I don't know. Just chill here, I guess."

The truth was that she didn't not want to go. She was just indifferent to it and frustrated with Roman. It was becoming more and more apparent that he's hiding something from her. He'd told her that first night in her dorm that he had things he wanted to tell her but couldn't. It seems like a bullshit excuse now.

He sits on the floor of her bedroom and watches as Emma zips her half-full suitcase and moves it to her closet. He can't believe she's packing to go back to school already. It seemed like she was eager to go. Eager to leave him here.

She sits on her bed with her hands rested in her lap. "Here," he says and digs around in his pockets. He hands her a new joint and sits next to her on the bed. She's not bothered enough to even open a window much less go outside. "I wish we could do it again."

"Do what again?" She looks at him.

"Last year. I miss being degenerate teenagers."

"You're still a degenerate teenager," she jokes and elbows him.

"I feel like we missed out on a lot."

"Yeah, probably," she surmises. She lays back onto her pillow with her legs draped over his. "But I think we would feel that way no matter what. It's never enough."

"Do you miss your friends?" He asks hesitantly.

"Yeah, a little. But I'll see them in a few days."

"I meant Ally and Kim, and the other ones."

"The other ones?" She laughs. He had managed to sleep with most of them but didn't remember their names. "Um, yeah." She thinks. "Sometimes. It is what it is though."

"Mhmm," he nods. He pushes her legs off of his before laying on the pillow next to her. "Well, here's to a new, better, year."

"Cheers," she smiles and takes the last hit. He's right, if the next year is half as eventful and excited as the past few months have been it will be a good year. It's easy to ignore all the sus things that had happened. It's especially easy with the distractions he'd provided.

Her reminiscing on the past few months is interrupted by a shift in the weight of the bed. Opening her eyes, she sees him playing with the top of her sweatpants. "Roman," she huffs. "I- No."

"I know, I don't care," he reminds her without even a small fumble in his movements.

"Why don't you care?" She asks grabbing his hands. "Why don't you care?" Roman bites his lip nervously and looks away.

"I don't know," he finally says. Her interest makes him uneasy. "It's just a thing. We all have our things... I don't ask you why you like being nutted in," he crudely turns the tables. She looks at him mortified and then lets her head fall back. "Any more questions?"

"No." She shakes her head. "No more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, thank you for letting me write my weird ass TMI story. I'm sorry for all the cringe things I make the characters to hahaha.
> 
> Anyways, much much much love. Thank you for all of your support as always.
> 
> Also... Please feel free send me high school!Roman prompts on tumblr. I started rewatching Weeds and Silas Botwin has major RGE (Roman Godfrey Energy)


	13. Atrophy

Emma enjoys the drive back to Philadelphia. She's never been able to drive this far of a distance before, and definitely not alone. It's nice and safe. She taps her fingers on the wheel along with the music playing. The drive blurs into one long stretch of grey between the tops of mountains and light snow flurries landing on the windshield.

It's late afternoon when she's dragging her suitcase across campus and back to her dorm. The whole way she can't shake the feeling that something is watching her, looming over her shoulder. She quickens her pace and keeps her head faced forward.

She's far from stupid. Maybe a bit intentionally ignorant, but not stupid. It's the lingering aftershocks of a traumatic event. Or several traumatic events really. It's anxiety and agoraphobia that has been awakened by the new semester. That's it, surely.

Any other ideas are buried deep away.

She walks with Jules and Maggie across campus to get their books for the semester. She laughs along as her friends joke about how expensive books are, and how sick of the dining hall they are. They missed home and she didn't.

Emma needed space. It wasn't that things were bad or weird with Roman. Quite the opposite really. They had spent the last few days of her break together. It takes the ride back to feel it, but it's as if the further away she gets from Hemlock Grove the more anxious she gets. The feeling that she is completely alone in the world suffocates her. It's not healthy.

Even surrounded by friends and new classmates she feels lonely. It's just another semester of struggling to find group project partners. Another semester of wanting to want the right things.

She doesn't know why she had expected it. When her first weekend back comes and goes without a visit from Roman she feels almost abandoned.

\- Hemlock Grove -

Roman loathes the word co-dependent. Truthfully, he hates any word that can be used to describe him in any light other than the image is building for himself. It comes up casually when they're making plans for the spring gala at the institute. It's the first one they've had since he had taken over and it needed to be perfect. Or at least that's what everyone keeps saying.

They're discussing dates when Roman casually mentions he needs to check with Emma before officially deciding. He had no idea when her finals were, or what other school things she might have to do.  _ It's kind of cute how co-dependent the two of you are _ . Roman's not sure who said it, but it cuts through the chatter like a sharp knife. Everyone stops speaking and looks around as if they're trying to find the culprit. Ironically enough, he returns to his office with the message that Emma had called his assistant to check on him.

Roman can't even stutter out a response. He calmly dismisses the meeting and returns to his office alone. It's there at his desk it stews a bit. He tries to distract himself with a late lunch that hardly satiates him. It had been over a week since he'd had a 'proper' meal, and even then he couldn't truly enjoy it.

When he's around people properly it's easy to grow disgusted at the more animalistic parts of him. More than he already is anyways. But it had gotten to a point that he could see the serious concern in both Emma and her mother's face. That wouldn't do.

He carnivorously attacks the cooked meat on his plate. Anything above rare wouldn't do, but he needed the distraction. He hears a bit of a racket outside of his office and the door pushing open. He didn't have any appointments, and Trevor better not have fucked that up. He's ready to explode at the poor man when he looks up.

"Roman," Olivia says softly. She stands in front of him in perfect health. The only indication that anything might have happened to her is the cane she lightly walks with. Roman's heart skips a beat and a burst of delirious laughter threatens to pass through his lips. "I'm sorry to surprise you like this, darling."

Olivia walks further in while Roman stares speechless. "I know you're a busy man," she says and leans on the back of the couch for assistance. "I'm so proud of you and your... entrepreneurial spirit, but you need to let Pryce do his work. It's important to us."

"Important to you," he corrects. "Had I known the budget was paying for your... your whatever this is." He motions to her living body. "I would have cut it a long time ago."

"Don't be a fool, Roman," she scolds him like a child. "Are you hungry?" She asks in an almost patronizing tone. "Or have you been eating?"

"I'm fine," he growls.

"You are hungry, aren't you? You think it's something you can control like a normal person. But you are not normal, Roman. That's why you went to Hawaii, and Bora Bora, and all that flying to Philadelphia, to ignore it. But you can't outrun it forever. You think you're smart, don't you? Going after the people no one will miss, feeding without killing anyone." Olivia walks close to his desk. "But bodies will eventually line up and point right to you. And the thirst will never stop."

Roman attempts to demand she leaves, but Olivia's voice stays strong in his silence. "We've spent centuries outrunning our victims- slaves to our appetite. Until now. Until I married us into the White Tower."

"At least you admit that you've fucked and finagled your way through the centuries."

"I did all for you Roman," she says to him softly. "You're my flesh and blood. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you."

"And what about Shelley?" He asks bitterly. "Have you even thought about her?"

"Of course I have! You think I haven't grieved?"

"And what about me?" He continues. "The things you made me do. The things you wanted me to do."

"It was the only way for you progress."

"I don't want to progress. I want to be human."

"You'll never be," she chuckles. "You're my son."

"I would do anything not to be."

\- Philadelphia -

Emma desperately wishes she could point to a single trigger or thought that caused this reaction, but she can't. It's a sudden downpour that flooded the basement and had breeched over the porch before she noticed. It was too late.

Maybe it was the overwhelming task of filling out her planner for the semester. Chem II, Bio II, Calculus, and somehow the most daunting of all- American Folklore. The pages and dates fill up quickly with notes of due dates and tests. She should probably start looking at extracurriculars too. A whole semester had come and gone wasted.

Dr. Lowenstien is the only professor that notices her missing from class. Her other classes were in large lecture halls where taking attendance was nearly impossible. He emails her asking if she's sick and she lies and says yes. There's nothing wrong with her physically except everything hurts and she's too tired to move.

She calls Roman that morning but he doesn't answer. When an hour passes she panics and calls his secretary. He notifies her he's busy with meetings but that he would be happy to take a message. She feels silly after hanging up- of course, he was busy. It was the middle of the day.

With no one else left to call she turns to her computer for a distraction. Putting on a TV show she's watched a million times, she stares at it and tries to pay attention. Fading in and out of sleep, her rest is plagued with dreams. She's back in the room with the intense energy that radiates with Roman's stare. Then she wakes up and checks her phone, hoping to see a missed text. There is nothing.

A new dream fades in through the fog as well. It's not a dream so much as a memory. It's the week of Roman's 16th birthday. She remembers how carefully he used to drive, barely going about the speed limit. He picked her up on the last truly hot day of the summer and drove across town to his father's grave. After, he drove out to the lake where they went swimming and both ended up with strange rashes from the water.

They never leave in her dream. She stands watching him sit in front of the grave, unsure of what to say or what he's feeling. She feels drawn to the headstone, her hands want to rub along the smooth marble and trace the letters of J.R.'s name with her fingers.

It's grey outside and the time slips away. Before she knows it, Jules is unlocking the door and comes in carrying her dinner. The bright fluorescent light of the hallway shines in briefly as the door shuts.

"Have you been to class today?" Jules asks looking around their dark dorm before turning the lights on.

"No," Emma mumbles.

"Are you going to tomorrow."

"I don't know."

"I can't leave," she whispers. "I feel like something bad is going to happen."

"Like what?"

"I don't know." Emma looks up to her.

"You are being insane," Jules tells her. "You know that, right?" Emma nods shamefully.

"It's just-" she starts before hesitating. She doesn't know what to say, what to share. "I have these thoughts in my head and they won't go away. I keep telling myself to stop, and that I'm being irrational, but they won't go away. They just run around, and run around, and run around." She waves her hand in the air.

"You need help."

She knows she does. But there are things she can't explain to anyone.

That night Jules drags her from her bed to Maggie's room. A new girl, Liza, has just transferred into the school. Maggie had met and befriended her and wanted everyone else to as well. Emma sits a bit outside of the group, scrolling through Instagram and drinking wine straight from the bottle.

Leah, Maggie's roommate, is sharing a lewd story of her with a guy she had met on Tinder. The girls around her giggle and laugh. Emma joins in with their laughs but doesn't listen to her speak. Later into the night, and 3/4's of a wine bottle through, someone suggests they play never have I ever.

She hadn't played this game since going to Kim's 16th birthday sleepover. She lied her ass off that night and no one suspected a thing.  _ Never have I ever road a rollercoaster  _ and  _ never have I ever lied about where I was  _ progressed into  _ Never have I ever kissed someone. Never have I ever smoked weed. Never have I ever lost my virginity.  _

Emma plays along with the girls and is impressed by their seemingly tame questions. She assumes it's because no one has tested the waters with Liza yet. Who knew how much she was comfortable with. Being a group of 19-year-old girls, most of their conversations led to their flings with boys- or girls. Leah always had the craziest stories.  _ Never have I ever forgotten a guys name mid-way into a date _ .  _ Never have I ever said the wrong name. Never have I ever dated two bothers without the other knowing. _

"Everybody is ganging up on me!" She whines.

"You're the only one who overshares everything," Jules points out.

"I do not!"

"You absolutely do," Maggie interjects with a hearty laugh.

"Fine," Leah huffs. "Never have I ever been in a serious relationship." She smirks as all the girls except her and Emma take a drink.

"Never have I ever had a brother," Maggie takes her turn quickly.

"Hey!" Jules objects then drinks.

"You're just collateral damage, sorry. This is full-on warfare with Leah."

"Oh, that's how we're doing it?" Jules smiles. "Never have I ever fucked in my dorm." Maggie proudly takes a drink. When Jules sees Emma drink along her jaw drops. "Gross!"

"What?" Emma asks. "We're in college. It's not like it was on your bed."

"Still," she groans. "Get a hotel. You're fucking up our dorm's vibes."

"Never have I not had sex in my dorm," Emma responds with and eye-roll. The other two girls drink.

Another 30 minutes in and all of the girls have begun to regret the night. They'll feel it in the morning for sure. It turns out Liza did open up a bit, but she was a bit timid. She'd grown up in a small, not so different from Hemlock. While she was the soberest, at this point everyone had admitted something embarrassing. 

"Never have I ever had period sex?" Liza asks. Emma drinks slowly, somehow feeling as though Liza already knew her answer. That she just needed confirmation.

"Gross," Leah scrunches her face. Emma looks down and doesn't respond. 

Eventually, Liza's questions begin to seem aimed at her. It's probably a coincidence, just purely drunken lewd thoughts crossing her mind.  _ Never have I ever slept with a stranger. Never have I ever taken plan-b.  _ That's why people play never have I ever. They want the dirty details.

"Never have I ever not used a condom," Liza asks.

"Okay, but what if it was like an accident?" Leah slurs. Jules tilts her head at that. "Like you just sort of forgot. We've all done that before."

"No we have not all done that," Liza laughs back. "But I meant on purpose.

"That's not fair. I'm in a long term relationship," Maggie protests.

"Drink," Leah demands with a grin. Maggie does and Emma follows shortly after.

"Damn girl, you're wild," Jules says looking at her roommate. 

"Not really," Emma mumbles with a head shake. She's almost as drunk as she is embarrassed. 

"Emma," Jules berates. "You don't even take birth control." Emma looks around the room trying to figure out how she got here. How did she become the singled-out one? It only heightens her sense of paranoia.  _ Why are they asking? _

"Aren't you terrified of getting pregnant?" Maggie asks shocked. "I would be too scared."

Emma thinks for a moment. "No. It's never really come to mind."

"Well," Maggie pops her lips. "I guess you've just gotten really lucky when it comes to timing."

Like a fucking gift from heaven, her phone rings. She hopes to pick it up to see Roman calling but it's an unknown number. The girls in the room are all shouting and giggling as she answers it.

"Hello?" She answers, waving to quiet down her friends.

"Hey," she hears Peter say. Her face and stomach drop as she hastily moves to the hallway. Jules looks after her, concerned.

"Peter?" She says quietly once the door is closed safely behind her.

"Hey," he repeats, a bit lighter this time. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she says emotionless.

"That's good," she can hear him swallow over the phone. "I need your help."

"What with," Emma sighs and paces.

"Roman-"

"You need to talk to him yourself," she cuts him off.

"I did!" He defends himself. "Look, Lynda is in jail on some bullshit charges."

"So you need money?"

"Yes," he confesses.  _ At least he's honesty _ , she thinks.

"I don't fuck with Roman's money, Peter," she snaps. "You should know that."

"I'm not asking you-" Peter groans. "I need you to talk to him for me. Explain to him-"

"Explain to him what?" She asks. "Explain to him how you disappeared only to conveniently return when you need his money. I'm sure he knows that Peter."

"I tried to talk to him myself," he explains. "He won't listen to me. Don't do it for me, do it for Lynda."

"I'm not going to ask Roman to give you money," she shakes her head. "I won't."

"Emma," Peter begs.

"No," she says before hanging up.

\- Hemlock Grove | 5 hours earlier -

Deep below the ground floor of the white tower lives Johann Pryce's life's work. Taking a look at his collections of oddities you'd be surprised to find that he still has a lot of life left in him. A lot more left to do.

A small tumor-like piece of flesh sits on a metal table. It's prodded at and directed by a woman in a white coat. Dr. Pryce check's in with her periodically, but she bring shim the appropriate samples when it's completed and leaves without a word. Pressing his thumb to a scanner at the door, he proceeds further into the lab.

Certain rooms were only accessible by certain scientists and not others. There is one room that only Pryce, and people Pryce opens the door for, can enter. The room is pure white, like the rest of the tower. It's kept clean by Pryce himself.

He typically finds himself spending late nights in this lab. He plays his classical music and moves in an almost rhythmic way with his work. It feels like a thankless task- what he is creating. The other scientists that have helped out know nothing about its true nature. They never would. Even Roman Godfrey himself was blacklisted from this knowledge.

Maybe one day he'll have some grand reveal, but not now.

A buzzing from one of the desks grabs his attention. He answers it without a sound. "Dr. Pryce, Mr. Godfrey wants to speak with you."

"Tell him I'm busy and will meet with him later."

"I'm sorry but he wants to speak to you now. He's here waiting."

"Show him to my office. I'm on my way."

"Roman," Pryce greets him with false joy. "What can I-" He stops with a gasp of pain. Roman has jumped at him, pinning him against the wall with one arm across his neck.

"You better have a good goddamn reason why Olivia is alive."

"Roman," Pryce responds with a slight waver. "You need to believe me when I say my work-"

"Do you," Roman growls. "Not understand what she has done to me?"

"I believe your mother is sorry for what she's done."

"Do you?" Roman scoffs. "Do you? That's great. I hope your dedication to my mother pays off for you because you no longer work here."

"Roman, let me remind you that I will leave with half of this staff." Pryce finally wiggles himself free. Roman steps back, breathing heavily, to lean against the desk.

"That's fine, I'll rehire."

"You'll lose all the work that I own, which is a lot."

"That's fine."

While Johann Pryce has spent years as a clean up man for the Godfrey's, he doesn't want to leave. His work is here and he is left almost completely alone. He's free to do as he pleases. Roman had been true to his word and hadn't gone digging too deep again. "Let me show you something first. Something your father left behind for me to work on."

Roman looks distrusted, but he agrees to follow behind. If it involved his father it involved him. Pryce leads him through a maze of sterile-looking hallways until finally approaching the last door. He goes through all the security protocols and holds the door open.

"What is this?" Roman asks looking around the bright room. He can't seem to absorb all the visuals before him. "Some sort of stem cell farm?"

"In a way, yes," Pryce smiles at him proudly.

"I thought we weren't doing shit like this anymore?" He ventures in further and begins to examine a few of the tanks. "Ethics and all."

"Not officially, no. But, as I said this is a private project that your father left behind."

"Miscellaneous R and D?"

"Miscellaneous R and D," Pryce confirms.

"What's it for?" Roman keeps moving around in awe.

"Oh, for a variety of things hopefully. It will benefit the entire research community, we'll get it right before we try publicly. It will benefit you-"

"Me?"

"Imagine an entity that would be capable of providing you with blood. A heart, veins, but no person." Pryce had expected a reaction from Roman but receives nothing. "And it was for Shelley..."

"Shelley?"

"I'd hoped to create a host body for her. One that she could enjoy a fuller life in," he says as Roman approaches the largest tank. "That's my pride and joy right there." Pryce rushes to stand next to him. "The first asexually created human. Well, not a human so much as a human body."

"It's not alive?" Roman looks it over. Its face is mostly covered by an oxygen mask. Its chest rises and falls, followed by a trail of bubbles rising to the top. Its fingers twitch ever so often.

"She only reacts to bright lights and sounds. Much like a vegetative state. She's waiting on a soul."

The whole body floats but is still. It has no color to it, its veins bright under its translucent skin. The hair is white. It barely looks human.

"I'm working on gene mutation as well. Since then she is completely created using one egg and no other form of DNA, would it be possible to introduce specific traits to create the ideal body?"

"Amazing," Roman whispers to himself. "How long has this been going on?"

"You didn't check the books?" Pryce chucks. "Quite a while, I suppose. It was one of the earlier projects I worked on here at the institute."

"Could these cells be used to... To make someone like me normal?" Roman asks slowly. He looks at the large sack of flesh on a table and resists the urge to tough it.

"Make you human?" Roman nods. "I don't think so, Roman."

"So this, this was made for Shelley?" Roman clears his throat and buries his disappointment. He. approaches the tank once more. He reaches forward and taps his finger on the glass. The creature's head jerks and eyes open wide. Roman jumps back at the sudden motion. "I didn't think... I didn't think I was that loud."

"I guess she's being sensitive today," Pryce jokes. "Typically, it needs to be a louder sound."

"And there's nothing going on up there?" Roman asks and points to his head. Pryce tells him no once more, but with its eyes open he can't shake it. Its eyes are as pale as the rest of its body with only the black of its pupils for contrast. Roman feels its eyes looking him over. He looks away in discomfort.

"I guess I should shut it down." Pryce breaks the silence. "The intellectual property involving the project is my own. Your father signed it over to me..."

"Why wouldn't I be ready?" Roman asks abruptly.

"What do you mean?"

"Olivia told me I wasn't ready to know about this." Pryce's face falls and he swallows before answering.

"Olivia is not aware of this lab's existence. The project she is referring to is not this one," he says wearily. 

"She doesn't know?"

"It was part of the agreement I made with your father." Pryce glances over to him and then back to the floating body. "However, if I'm released from my contract I might have to tell her."

"I don't give a shit," Roman scoffs.

"You should," Pryce counters.

"What do you mean?" His face turns cold.

"I mean, it would be a shame if Olivia found out that this why all her elaborate schemes failed. It might act as a muse of some sort."

"Are you blackmailing me?" He chuckles. "Tell Olivia what you want. She'll figure out a way to get what she wants one way or another. She always does."

"Not this time, Roman. Your father and I made sure of that." Roman stares him down before deciding to end the conversation. Pryce feels his time fleeting and decides to make his reveal. "Had he known it would come at Letha's expense, he wouldn't have done it."

"What's that mean?" Roman looks down in guilt at the mention of his cousin's name.

"It means that even your father seems to have underestimated your mother's... determination." Roman scoffs. As if determination could ever capture the intensity of Olivia's evilness. "Your father was a smart man, intuitively anyways. Towards the end of his life, he picked up on a lot of things your mother did. He could see through her generosity like a window."

"Things?" He asks but fears he already knows the answer. Perhaps he had known for a while but didn't understand it.

"She was just a child," Pryce starts, recognizing the look on the boy's face. "Practically a baby. We did what we could."

"What does that mean?"

"We harvested as many eggs from her as possible and used radiation on the remaining ones. I suggested tubal litigation, but it would have drawn too much attention during puberty."

"And you did this? Without her knowing? Without her parents knowing?"

"We had to," Pryce sighs.

"This is a lot," Roman sits down and runs his hands through his hair. "This is... sick. What you've done."

"No, you don't understand," Pryce stops him. "Your father did this to help her."

"Help?" Roman laughs.

"He brought her to me like a child with a terminal illness, begging for some miracle cure."

"This is fucked," Roman's voice shakes. "He shouldn't have- he didn't have the right."

"Humans aren't like you, Roman," Pryce says soothingly. "Not doing anything was a damnation. Letha not terminating her pregnancy was a damnation. Humans cannot survive it." Roman doesn't speak. He puts his chin in his hands and tries to calm down. 

"So all of these," Roman finally speaks. He gestures around. "All of these things were created with..."

"Yes. Using the harvested eggs."

"You have to destroy them. You have to destroy them now. All of them. They're not yours to fuck with."

"Miss Parker won't find out." Pryce gives him a reassuring smile. "That was the whole point. Her life will go on without interruption for the most part. It's better than-"

"Dying?" Roman scoffs with disbelief. "If Olivia finds out this exists she will stop at nothing to take it," Roman's eyes have yet to settle. They still are trying to take in everything. "Or destroy it. You can't tell me you didn't know to think about that when you brought her back."

"She doesn't know. This is invaluable work."

"Using stolen DNA," Roman pokes his chest.

"Do you not understand how remarkable it is that-"

"Get rid of it," Roman says stiffly and turns to leave.

"I will not. This is my work. I own it."

"Get rid of it," he asserts. "Or I will get rid of it and you."

Roman drives home in a haze trying desperately to piece together his thoughts. They remain scrambled. He didn't want to tell her. He shouldn't  _ have  _ to be the one to tell her. Hadn't he done enough? Even though this was out of his control, it all led back to him. He considers not telling her, seriously considers it.

He can't find any empathy in his heart for her, only pity for himself. He's going to feel like shit the next time he sees her. Did she have to be reminded of something she had blocked out of her mind? Clearly, the memory is missing for a reason.

Roman wants to feel anything other than self-pity and loathing. He pushes his mind to envision what Emma's life would be like. In ten years or so would she be married and wanting a child? Would she go into it blindly expecting nothing to be wrong? Then Roman thinks about how he has years to worry about that.

More importantly, where would he be in 10 years? He had never imagined getting that old, never really saw a future beyond the next day.

Parking in the garage, he sits until the lights turn themselves off. Something turns in his stomach. Guilt? It must be guilt. Not guilt for what has happened. Guilt that he doesn't care.

He pours himself a drink before even taking his shoes off. He needs a distraction and fast. At the rate his stomach is moving, it will eat itself by the end of the hour. Roman sits on the couch with his drink in hand and watches TV.

A distraction comes eventually. An unwelcome distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took a while to get out:( I decided I'd rather give you guys the chapter you deserve even if it takes a bit longer.  
Thank you all for reading and supporting this!!!
> 
> PS: If you're interested in previews for the future check my tumblr. I'm dropping little hints here and there.


	14. Space

Roman hadn't expected Peter to ever come back. He had spent many nights hoping and praying to whatever God there's supposed to be that he would. He missed and needed his friend during those dark times. Instead, he was forced to cling to Emma like a flea.

His prayers eventually came to fruition and Peter returns. It's fitting, he thinks, that it's for money.

_ A gypsy is a gypsy is a gypsy.  _ His mother's words ring in his head.

It's hard for him to do this to Lynda simply to spite her son. He really did like her, even almost love, but she had gone with Peter. Scratch that- she had acted as an escape car for Peter. He knew that she had driven them to god knows where. She should have made him stay.

Roman takes a seat on the staircase after ordering his departure. He grits his jaw and tries to deny the stinging in his eyes and the turn in his stomach. Roman's never had his heart broken before, he never gave anyone the opportunity. This was his first and he didn't even know it.

So Roman Godrey does what Roman Godfrey does when he's feeling low. He does a couple lines, goes to a bar, and sleeps with a stranger.

.......

Emma wakes up earlier than she would have liked to of given her a headache. After several groans her feet hit the ice cold floor. She goes immediately to the common area down the hall, not even putting on a bra or brushing her hair. The loud ringing hurts her ears but she's sure it'll be over soon. Except it isn't. Roman lets his Facetime ring out until she got sick of waiting.  She cancels the call and slams her phone on the table. He'd ignored her on purpose. She doesn't know that for sure, but it's easy to assume. 

It's fucking cold in the hallway but she can't bring herself to walk back to her room. The chilled air and the subtle pattern of the florescent lights feels right. They mimic the dull feeling she has brewing inside of her.

When she does get up it's only to put on a few layers for her walk to the dining hall. She kicks at the slush on the sidewalk with her old snow boots. She drinks four cups of coffee and eats a single waffle that makes her nauseous. The dining hall is almost empty at this time of morning on a Saturday. She bathes in the noises of human existence. The soda fountains fizz, the sizzling of eggs, the trays of food being slung into their place.

.......

Sunday is the worst day of the week for them. It always had been. The dread of the nightfall that could only lead to the early morning of school. That meant Emma had to go home and Roman had to retreat to his room. It's not too different now, either. At least on Monday's the dread is over.

Roman cancels his morning meetings so he could busy himself with more interesting activities. He pours through every budget binder and book his assistant can find for him. He wants a total of how much money Pryce had spent on this sick little experiment of his. How long this had been going on? 

It takes a lot of digging and slamming the phone down on the receiver to get it moving. He pinpoints a year and month when the funding began. Two months before his father's suicide. Roman has no memory of anything strange happening during that time. Even his father's death didn't strike him as odd at the time.

He creates a private Excel sheet to track everything with. It's surreal. It's strange seeing something so unsettling broken down into numbers and dollar signs. It gave him a feeling that we can't quite place. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't intrigued. 

Roman knows that he will eventually find his way down into the basement again. He'll look around at all the oddities Pryce has in the room. Then, he'll secretly hope that Pryce was telling the truth- that maybe this could solve his problem.

After lunch, he tries to answer a few emails that were deemed important enough to go straight to him. He gets lost writing a response to a myriad of questions and confirmations. The _BEEP_ of his intercom makes him jump, something he never does.

"Mr. Godfrey," his assistant says nervously. "There's a call on line 2 for you."

Roman knows before the end of the sentence what that meant. He had only given his assistant one person who he could interrupt him for. He has to take a moment to convince himself not to let the call go. 

"Hello," he says as if he didn't know who it was.

"Hey, are you okay?" He can hear the concern coursing through her voice.

"Yeah, what's up?"

"I just..." Sitting on her bed alone, she feels a bit silly now. "I hadn't heard from you and I was worried."

"I've been really busy at work," he explains unapologetically. She pauses for him to elaborate further but he has no intention to do so.

"Peter called me."

"Oh?" She finally catches his attention.

"Yeah. He said he stopped by."

"Did he tell you why?"

"Yeah," she sighs.

"And you agreed to help him, hm?"

"No," Emma responds, shocked that he would even think that. "I told him that he should've known better than to ask me."

"Pretty funny, isn't it?" He scoffs. "He conveniently ends up in Hemlock Grove right when he needs money. What are the odds?"

"Did he tell you what happened? I didn't really ask."

"Apparently the Feds busted Lynda on some bullshit charges. I don't know if I believe that, though."

"Who knows, it could all be a lie," she consoles him despite not believing what she's saying. Peter wouldn't lie about Lynda. 

"Look, I have to get back to some work."

"Okay," she takes a breath. "Okay. Will you try and call or text me back? I get worried when I don't hear from you."

"You heard from me the other day."

"Yeah, but yesterday-"

"We don't have to talk every day." 

"Oh, yeah. Yeah, of course. I didn't mean- I'll just let you get back to work."

"Bye."

He didn't mean to be harsh most of the time. Sometime's Roman doesn't even realize that he's behaving that way. His apathy is at a new high for him and became easy to push everything away. But most of all, he didn't know what to say when she called.

His troubles went far beyond what she could understand. What could he say? ' _ Hey, sorry, I haven't had much blood in a while and I'm feeling a little cranky _ .' Or, ' _ Hey, sorry, my mom's alive again and I am very distraught.'  _ Then there was the oddest of them all,  _ Hey, sorry I haven't been answering. I found out my father did some ethically troubling things to you as a child and I don't know how to explain that to you _ .' 

.......

"Miss Parker," a voice calls out in the distance. "Miss Parker, are you with us?" Emma looks up to see Dr. Lowenstein looking down at her.

"Sorry," she mumbles and sits up straight. He returns to the slideshow he had prepared for class. American Folklore didn't hold her attention as her last anthropology class had. Or maybe she couldn't control her attention. She makes a mental note to ask the girl down the hall to sell her some Adderall. 

The spring semester had started off a bit icy, but it's coming back together. She was surprised to find that some of her second level classes were easier than her first. Anthropology was an exception. Last semester she just had one big paper, but now she had one due every Friday. This time, it was on topics she didn't particularly care about.

She had highlighted the weeks she was excited for. Roanoke, the Salem Witch Trials, the Loogaroo, and the section on Urban Legends. All of the themes were spread out between stories of Uncle Sam, Johnny Appleseed, and other characters she had learned in elementary school. It created a slow pace. 

The first week of February comes too soon. It had been two and a half weeks of distance. It feels like someone is cutting her guts out and leaving her to die. Even though his distance had become a trend in their friendship, ever time it hurts worse and worse. Two steps forward, three back. Why didn't he see that?

It's a spur of the moment decision to drive home early. It was her mother's birthday, and she definitely would be going back for that, but she worries about Roman. Not only for his health but for his silence. Most people would say that she's paranoid, but she's not. She has a gut feeling that something in the universe has been disturbed. Something is not right but she's not sure what.

Deep down, she knows there's a possibility the disturbance might not involve Roman. It's a big world and there are a lot of things that can change. It's not worth the risk, though. She needs him to be okay. 

Peter's reemergence had brought her an unpleasant feeling. She had never imagined Roman could experience the pain he had when Peter left. His returning and trying to be friendly with Roman left a bitter taste in her mouth. She wonders how long Roman had known he was around. Had it been weeks? Was he still there?

So she leaves when it's still dark out and starts her drive. She doesn't even tell her mom she's coming home early. She drives straight to Roman's without a second thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm real excited about the next chapter tbh... I actually wrote it while I was still writing Bury a Friend so it's been a long time coming.


	15. Melodrama

Emma would never tell him, but she hated his house. It was overwhelmingly modern and obscene in its settings. She wishes she had been there when he built it to tell him it was a bad idea. She's sure there are a million other homes he could have built that would have been better.

Over the winter break, she had spent so much time here she could almost say it felt like home. Almost. They never got around to decorating the house or switching out his silk sheets for cotton ones. She left at the end of the break with the house still grey and gloomy.

She pulls into the driveway and parks the car. She hesitates before getting out. Maybe this was a mistake. She should have told him before she came. Then again, when did Roman ever warn her? He had always invited himself in and stayed. He never stopped to ask if it was okay.

It takes a while before anyone answers the door. Emma's not surprised to see the housekeeper answer the door. She'd worked for Olivia before her death and came with Roman. Anna was not a particularly cruel person. She's not kind either, but she is ferociously loyal to the Godfrey family.

It was hard as a child to not take her distrust personally. Anna didn't trust anyone who walked into the Godfrey residence, child or adult. Everyone was a potential threat. Even to this day, years and years later, she looks at Emma with a bit of distrust. "Mr. Godfrey's asleep," she says.

"That's fine, I can just wait." Anna thinks it over for a minute. There was a good chance Mr. Godfrey would be furious if she sent her away. There was just a good of a chance he would be furious if she let her stay. He was rather unpredictable at times.

Giving in, she nods and holds the door open. She disappears quickly, leaving Emma alone in the dark living room. For the first time in probably weeks, light pours through the windows as she opens the curtains. She makes a cup of coffee and breathes in the smell. It almost feels homey.

While she waits, she starts thinking through what she could do to make it even better here. It would have to wait until she came back from school but some ideas wouldn't hurt. Roman wouldn't take too much convincing to let her make things a little less depressing. She knows he sees it too.

He doesn't keep her waiting long.

He turns from the steps to the kitchen rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He's in flannel bottoms and a grey tee-shirt. He looks like a disheveled mannequin. "Oh," he jumps a bit at the sight of her. "What are you doing here?"

"Try to not sound disappointed I'm here," she says with a nervous laugh.

"Hi." The way that he says it and looks at her makes her feel insane. Why is it fine when he shows up at her dorm but not the other way around? Was she insane? Had she overstepped some boundary that was never made clear? "Why are you here?"

"I just wanted to say hi." Emma shrugs.

"I meant Hemlock."

"My mom's birthday dinner is tonight," she reminds him. He should remember, he was invited to dinner.

"Oh, yes." Roman nods and looks much more awake. He racks his brain for an excuse. "I have that in my... in my calendar. I was going to come."

"It's okay that you forgot," she assures him. 

"Sorry. It's been-"

"Hectic, I know," she finishes for him. She sits in the silence waiting on a response that he can't seem to formulate. 

"I'm going to try and get some work done." Roman gets out a clean mug for himself. "I'll plan on coming over at like what? 6:00?"

"6:00 is good." She can feel him trying to push her out but she resists it. "Is everything okay?"

"Everything's great," he assures her. "I'm going to get to work." He grabs the mug and turns to walk her to the door. Before she can give in, a small noise draws her attention to the staircase. Expecting Anna or even Conway, she doesn't even look. It's not until a small frame buzzes past her that she thinks anything of it.

"Good morning, handsome," the small girl says as she wraps her arms around Roman from behind. The girl doesn't acknowledge her, she only looks at Roman. Emma watches this interaction with the feeling of all of her blood rushing down to her feet. No part of her is able to visibly articulate how she feels. 

She puts her hand up to her chin and contemplates how to approach. Roman didn't invite women over. That had always been his rule. It was his boundary between who he was and who he wanted to be. She could see that even if he didn't. Something was terribly wrong. Her gut reaction had been right.

"Um-" Roman says startled turning around.

"Hi, who are you? I don't think we've met before." Emma asks, mustering up as much cheer as possible. The top half of her body remains feeling weightless.

"Em-" Roman tries to stop her before the girl can answer.

"I'm Miranda, it's nice to meet you. You are?"

"Em- Miran--" Roman tries again, unsure of who to address first.

"I don't know. Roman, who am I?"

"Oh, don't act like that," Roman tells her with an eye roll.

"What the fuck is happening?" Emma hears Miranda asks as she stands from her stool and approaches Roman. "Roman?" The girl asks again. "What's going on?" The two old friends just stand facing each other in a deafening silence.

"Yeah, what is happening?"

"Em-" he's still struggling.

"Who are you?" Miranda asks, getting impatient.

"Hi, hello, Emma," Emma introduces herself with a sarcastic smile on her face. "We're in the middle of something, could you fuck off for a minute?" She turns back to Roman. "Elaborate, please."

"Whatever involves Roman involves me!" Emma takes a deep breath before responding to Miranda's wild statement.

"Could you please fuck off?" She asks again. "Is this why you've been ignoring me?"

"I haven't been ignoring you," he protests.

"Yes. Yes, you have been. I know when you are because you do it all the goddamn time."

"You can be so melodramatic sometimes."

"And you're a fucking liar."

"What did I lie about?"

The girl steps back, watching them argue. "Who is she?" She looks at Roman. "Are you baby's mother?"

"Baby" Emma asks before seeing the look on Roman's face. She can see it written in big block letters. _I fucked up_. "What baby?" She asks him. He doesn't answer. "What baby?"

"It's... It's-" He stutters. "It's easier if I show you."

And he does show her. She follows him up the stairs and to the first door. He unlocks the padlock to the room he said held family papers and heirlooms. Then through a second door. In that room, she feels sick. Not because of the crying child that wails with her arms out, reaching for her father. But because she's been here before.

Involuntarily, her feet back her away to the familiar padded wall. The slow movement isn't lost on Roman. "Let me explain."

She only manages to nod slowly with a gulp.

"This is Letha's baby. My baby," he adds. "I didn't want you to find out. I didn't want anyone to find out. They wouldn't understand."

_I outsourced it._

"I would understand more than anyone," she whispers with a shaking voice. He doesn't acknowledge it.

In their silence, the baby's wails only grow louder and he continues to ignore her. The noise must have rung throughout the house and Anna comes quickly. She barely notices Emma's spot on the ground. She probably had been anticipating this to happen at any point. Anna hadn't anticipated Miranda following not too far behind her. The blonde girl rushes to the crib, almost pushing Anna out of her way.

Roman never looks away from her as this commotion occurs. He can feel her disappointment in the air. She's not disgusted like he thought she would be, she's hurt. Roman can't quite understand why. He wishes that he was as clueless as she was.

"After I moved out of your place, I went back to the mansion to get things sorted out. Olivia was there. She took me upstairs and made me remember everything," he says as soon as the two women leave the room. Emma braces herself against the wall with her knees threatening to give out. "She told me to kill her, kill the baby. So I killed myself instead."

"When I came back I was different. I was something else. I spent all summer working with Pryce on a stem cell project for my scars." He turns his wrists towards her. "They've turned out pretty good, I guess."

She looks at them and remembers him wearing long sleeves in the middle of May. Feeling weak, she lets herself drop to the floor. Roman looks down at her in an eerily similar way that he did in her dream. "I know it sounds crazy. I didn't want anyone to know. Especially not you."

"What are you?" Emma asks with a pathetic attempt at stabling her voice.

"It's called," he hesitates and turns away. "Upir. It means-"

"Vampire." She finishes for him. She'd only heard the seen the word in passing in her textbook, but it comes to her then. Maybe she had just known all along and didn't realize it. "The Slavic word for vampire." He nods.

"That's why Olivia can- Olivia and I can make people do things." Emma nods but doesn't respond. "Are you scared of me?"

"No." _Of course not_. She wraps her arms around her knees. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was afraid I'd scare you."

"You don't." She watches as he turns to face her. "Why did you tell her?" The confusion in her mind slowly begins to fade away into anger. "Why did you tell her and not me?" Roman walks closer to her.

"She knows about the baby but that's it." He crosses his arms and looks down. "She found out on her own."

"And why didn't you tell me about her? Is she living with you now? Who is she?" Emma feels embarrassed about being left out. She was his friend, his only friend, he should have told her. About any if not all of it. Instead, she was left out in the dark again.

"Miranda wrecked her car. She came to my door for help and I'm letting her stay while she gets her car fixed."

"You let a strange woman live in your house?" She asks in disbelief. "A strange woman that conveniently ended up at your door?"

"I'm practically immortal, Emma," he says in a hushed tone. "What could she possibly do?"

"The baby's not immortal."

"She wasn't supposed to find her."

"But she did!" She fumes. She stands from her spot on the floor and mimics his arms crossing. "There are bad people in this world, Roman! People who will do cruel things to get what they want- like, I don't know, money. How could you be so fucking stupid?"

"You don't know her," he protests.

"And you do?" She scoffs. "Tell me, Roman, how long has she been here?" He diverts his eyes. "A week? A month? Six months?"

"Almost a month," he grumbles.

"Ha!" She can't help the noise from coming out. "You've known her for less than a month and you know everything about her? Know her motives? You know her past?"

"I know enough."

"She's gotta go," Emma tells him. "You can't have her here."

"This is not your house," he says, insulted. "And that's not your baby."

"Yeah? Well, clearly I care more about its safety than you do."

"You don't know anything," he sneers. "You have no place in any of this."

It hits her straight in the jaw. She really doesn't know anything. She doesn't know that woman, she doesn't know this baby, and she doesn't know Roman. Not anymore. "You're right," she concedes despite how much it burns. "You're absolutely right."

Roman says nothing as she turns and escorts herself out.

Downstairs, Miranda sits on the sofa with the baby in her arms. Emma feels guilty about her attitude towards her, but not bad enough to apologize. She was the collateral damage of a train wreck. Emma feels terribly embarrassed in front of her. Embarrassed and really fucking stupid.

She stops at the kitchen counter to remove the car key from her key ring. She didn't want anything from him. She didn't need anything from him either. She grabs her backpack and duffle bag from the trunk and slams it behind her.

Roman lives a bit out of the city. It's not what she would call walking distance in the winter, but during temperate weather, she would have enjoyed it. Somehow she can't find any way to hate it. The walk provides a cooling and numbing effect that she hadn't expected but desperately needed. It was approaching mid-day and her mom would be awake any moment now.

Seeing Kay Parker was at the bottom of the list of things that would help her feel better. Her mind is fried from too much information and it pounds. She takes a seat on a bench at the park. Her eyes close for a moment until she is bending forward and throwing up the coffee she had at Roman's. The dark color melts through the white snow and to the pavement.

Emma stays seated on that bench longer than she thought she could. It wasn't that cold after a while, and time passes in a blur. She feels so terribly alone again. Why wouldn't he tell her? Why did he tell _her_?

_Are you the baby's mother?_

She scoffs at the thought. Some stranger had the audacity to ask her that, to make her feel foolish for being left in the dark. _Are you the baby's mother? No, who the fuck are you?_

Most of all it hurt that he hadn't told her the truth about everything. She could, with some rationalizing, understand his desire to keep some things secret. The baby, she was hurt but could understand. Emma could understand why he didn't tell her what he was. Maybe she had known all along but didn't want to think about it. It was easier to pretend it was normal.

But the girl? The girl who had been living with him for almost a month? That caused blinding rage. The story he had told her made no sense. How long would it take for her car to get fixed?

There's no excuse.

She must have conveniently wrecked her car right after Emma went back to school. Right after spending her entire break there, she took her place. Emma shakes off the thought. She didn't have a place in this.

He was right, it wasn't her house. It definitely wasn't her baby. It wasn't her place to tell him how foolish he was being. She couldn't tell him who he could and couldn't bring around. She clenches her jaw in disgust with herself. Emma didn't actually care about the baby's safety. Not even a little.

A million feelings race through her head, all contradictory. If she had to describe it out loud most would call her jealous. She knows that isn't it. She's not jealous it's just that she feels left out and abandoned. Why does he need a stranger in his house? Wasn't her friendship enough? Why didn't he tell her?

It's unclear whether telling her would actually have made a difference. She always thought that once he met a girl, or maybe even a guy, that he liked enough to keep around he'd want her opinion. She'd want his. Given the circumstances around her arrival, Emma doubts she would have had a very positive opinion.

Emma had been around long enough to know if someone genuinely liked Roman or saw him as a transactional being. She had barely spoken to the girl, but her _Dior _pajamas had said everything. She could see the game Miranda was playing with Roman. More importantly, she could see it was working.

The least Roman could have done was tell her he had met someone. She wouldn't have cared. She had assumed that because she would tell him. Did they sleep in his bed together? She must have been something special for Roman to let her stay. He knew better. He should have seen right through her but he didn't.

When her ass cheeks finally feel like they're frozen to the bench she stands. Her phone is buried deep in her purse and silenced. She isn't ready to face Roman if he wanted to talk or find out that he didn't. Both options were too much to handle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Eeeeek. She's hereeeeeee. Ugh god I hate miranda so much but I love writing her. 
> 
> I'm going through some personal stuff right now tbh and I think I'm either going to have severe writers block of not be able to stop writing. I'm not sure which one right now. So any requests/suggestions/questions you have would be a really great distraction and motivator right now. 
> 
> Much love- E
> 
> PS: I just wrote what I know I want the last line of the story to be and it made me feel A LOT of things.


	16. Habits

** 7 Years Earlier **

At approximately 3:15 Monday through Friday, the entire Godfrey mansion would be turned upside down as two pre-teens scattered from the black car parked in the driveway. From the door to the kitchen, the would run upstairs with arms filled with snacks and sodas. They had at least an hour before Olivia would get home and fume over their junk food consumption.

They toss their backpacks down on the freshly vacuumed carpet in synch. Roman drops to the floor and uses it as a pillow. He opens a can of some over-sugared soda that he'll regret drinking later and watches as his friend digs through her backpack. While pulling out thick textbooks, a pink and purple envelope falls out.

"What is that?" Roman points to it.

"Oh." Emma shoves in back in her bag. "It's nothing- just a dumb invitation to a birthday party."

"Who for?"

"Ally Gagliardi," she says.

"Oh shit. You should go!" Emma scrunches her face at him. "She's hot. She's the only girl in our grade that wears a bra."

"You're weird," she responds awkwardly, unsure of what to think of that.

"Well a real bra, anyways..." He thinks aloud. "You should go."

"I don't think so," Emma huffs. She looks down at her math homework and hopes the conversation will pass by. "She only invited me because her mom made her."

"Go," he instructs her. She knows she will go. He turns back to his textbook with a moan. "Fuck this. Do my history homework," he jokes. He buries the surprised feeling he gets when she actually complies. 

-HG-

Roman experiences her arrival and departure in three distinct waves of emotion. The first is the initial shock of seeing her there in his living room.

He tries to get her out of the house before it gets worse before things really explode. He knows she's not stupid. She knows what he's trying to do and won't let him. Maybe she should have let him push her out.

He wants to explain that he's not sure what Miranda was doing greeting him like that. That had never happened before. That if he thought something romantic was occurring she would be the first person he told. Was that what was happening with Miranda? Something romantic?

The second is the needless guilt he felt. He has nothing to feel guilty about, yet it remains. He didn't have to explain why he had a house guest at  _ his  _ house. He didn't have to share anything with her, it didn't affect her. The baby hadn't interrupted their friendship so far, and as long as Roman remained fed he was fine. She didn't have to know anything.

But maybe he should have wanted her to know.

Last is anger. Instead of being mature and trying to keep the situation calm, he went on the defensive. It was his natural instinct to bite back at Emma's anger. He hadn't expected her to back down so easily. When she does he's unsure what to do. He had been so confident that they would fight it out. But now they don't because he's a coward and it's easier for her to go than for him to explain himself.

-Philly-

Emma goes back to school as quickly as she can. Hemlock Grove is more suffocating than normal. She tells her mom that her car was "broke down" and needs a ride back to campus. Kay prints her a bus ticket for the following afternoon and makes plans to drive her to the station.

She's the only one who gets on at that first station. The bus stays fairly empty for most of the journey. She listens to music when she has phone service and reads when she does not. Sitting on an uncomfortable seat in a grimy bus creates a certain atmosphere. Nothing is more noticeable than the conjoined misery that they all feel. It makes the world seem a little less lonely. 

It's getting dark by the time she's catching an Uber back to campus. The driver tries to make small talk, but after hours on the bus, she can't even try to talk to him. He notices her annoyance at his behavior and stops trying after a while. 

"Welcome back," Jules greets her without looking up. Emma goes straight past her, loudly drops her things on the floor, then flops onto her bed. "You good?" She asks, this time looking at her distressed friend. Emma just releases a small scream into her pillow as a response. "I'll take that as a no."

Emma responds with a groan. "What's up?"

"I can't tell you. I want to, but I can't." Emma turns her head to look at her.

"Is everything okay? Your mom?"

"Mom's fine," she sighs. "Roman's just... Just a piece of work as always."

"I'm sure you guys will be fine. You always are."

"Not this time, Jules." She shakes her head. "He's like dating someone and didn't tell me. That's not like him, at all."

"How long for?" She gasps a bit.

"Like a month."

"Oh. That's not that long. He's probably testing the waters before telling you-"

"She's living with him, Jules. Like in his home."

"Jesus fucking Christ."

"There's so much more I can't tell you," she groans and puts her head down.

"I'm so sorry, Em." Jules stands and joins her on her bed. "That's horrible."

"My head is going to fucking implode."

......

The world seems so quiet now. It had seemed quiet for a while, but before there was the expectation of some static breaking through. Now? Her phone stays silent and the only conversations she finds herself having are in class. And that's only when called on. Even Jules had disappeared a bit. Her sorority was taking up most of her time.

With the snow piled up high outside of her dorm, she doesn't want to leave for any reason other than class. She either creates a meal from the snacks in her dorm or doesn't eat. Anytime she spends money from her student account on food at the dining hall she's reminded of who is paying for her to be there. The reason she's there in the first place.

The paranoid thought slides in and out of her brain. If this fight didn't resolve what would happen when next semester's bill came around? Her mom couldn't afford it. Even if Emma spent all summer working full time she wouldn't be anywhere close. She tells herself Roman wouldn't do that to her, he's not that cruel.

But every time they separate from one another the injuries sustained are deeper. 

She had easily given up the keys to his car. That was just some material item he had gotten to make  _ his  _ life easier. She couldn't part from school so easily. Roman was right when he said her "scholarship" was the least the Godfrey family could do after everything. She hated to admit it but she did need this one thing from him. 

The thoughts circle, and circle, and circle until she's overwhelmed by the world. 

Half a bottle of wine and three episodes into pirated episodes of  _ Kitchen Nightmares _ , she's hit a dead end. There's so much silence in the room and nothing to distract her from it. Even Gordon Ramsay's harsh voice can't cut it. She needs interaction, a response. Attention. 

She's not sure what it is that reminds her of the number sitting dormant in her phone. The memory of receiving had completely drifted from her mind. It had been overwritten by the sound of glass breaking on marble, and mimosa fueled small talk with a bland woman.

Before she has time to second guess herself she hits send.

_ Jonah: And to think I just thought you forgot all about me. _

_ Emma: WELL. You did ask for MY number. _

_ Emma: Therefore, you should text first. _

_ Jonah: Technicality. _

_ Emma: It counts. _

_ Emma: You in Philly? _

_ Jonah: Not currently. _

_ Jonah: I'm dealing with some nerds in Silicon Valley _

_ Jonah: And not in an endearing way. _

_ Jonah: They're all weird and don't talk. _

_ Jonah: It's been a really long day. _

_ Emma: I could say the same about the people in my chem class. _

_ Emma: Group projects are really fun with them  _

_ Jonah: You don't have to explain that to me _

_ Jonah: I'm just trying to buy into these assholes' business. _

_ Emma: Sounds you have the upper hand there. _

_ Jonah: Yeah, sounds like it.  _

_ Jonah: But anyways, enough with the nerds. What's up? _

_ Emma: Not much, having a night in. _

_ Jonah: Isn't there a frat party you should be at? _

_ Emma: There's a few going on, but I'm not going solo. _

_ Jonah: Ah. Is this a booty call Emily Parker?  _

_ Jonah: Because that's bold. It's been a while since we met... What if I had a girlfriend? _

_ Emma: Do you? _

_ Jonah: Does it matter? _

_ Jonah: So is this a standing offer for when I get back? _

_ Emma: I might change my mind by then. _

_ Jonah: Trust me, I'd love to be anywhere but here. _

It's a slow progression of slightly riskier and riskier messaged. She replies to all of them with a straight face, terribly bored with the whole interaction but still wanting to push it further. 

Careful to keep her face out of it, Emma twists and turns a bit trying to find an angle where her nipples are actually pointing the same way. She finds that it's harder than it sounds. When that mission is accomplished she starts overanalyzing other parts of the photo.

She had been so skinny the year before.  _ No. Nope _ . She stops herself. Unhealthy was the word she should use. She wasn't skinny she was underweight. 

It would be different with a normal guy. A normal guy should just be thankful she's sending photos to begin with. But Jonah Richfield wasn't normal. He was just a different brand of Roman Godfrey. He was a boy with fuck-off money that didn't have to give her the time of day. All he had to do was go out in one of his suits and girls prettier than he would swarm. She had seen it happen with Roman too many times to fool herself.

By the time he got back to Philly, he'd have forgotten this entire moment. For now, it works.

_ Fuck, you're so hot. _

......

"Em... Emma..." The sound of Jules' fingers snapping pulls her from her thoughts. She looks up to the girls sitting around her. They're all in a study room at the library getting ready for their upcoming assignments. "Did you hear us? We're ordering sandwiches. Do you want one?"

"Oh..." Emma pushes her hair back. "I'm okay."

"You sure? You haven't had anything to eat since this morning."

"Yeah, I'm fine," she sighs and takes a drink of her water. "I took an Adderal earlier so it might be a while."

"Okay, then..." Maggie clicks her tongue. "The order is sent."

"Thank god," Liza huffs. "I need a break. I'm about ready to drop out."

"It'll be fine," Emma remarks. "Just three and a half more years."

"Then a few more for law school," Maggie groans.

"At least you guys will make enough money to even it out," Liza says. "I'm going to be in more debt than I'll ever earn."

"Don't be a social worker, then," Maggie comments. "Fuck being selfless."

"I want to help kids," Liza shrugs. "It's important to me."

"I think that's admirable," Emma tells her. "I wish I felt a calling like that."

"Do you want kids?" Liza asks. It throws Emma off and she has to think for a moment. "I don't mean to impose-"

"No!" She shakes her head. "It's fine. It's just something I haven't really thought about much."

"So no?"

"I don't know. I guess so, yeah." Emma looks around. "Yeah, maybe. What about you guys?" She asks, trying to take the attention off of her.

"I can't imagine that far ahead," Jules laughs. "I'm just trying to pass history."

......

The days go by slowly but the weeks fly by. It's the last week of February and it's time to start getting ready for mid-terms. It's late at night and the only noise outside of her headphones is the light snoring coming from Jules' side of the room. It drives Emma insane, but her roommate is sick so there's only so much she can do.

She has her small lamp on in an attempt to keep the room somewhat dimmed for Jules. Papers lay scattered around the desk. She keeps re-reading the same notes over and over again. She doesn't notice she's doing it until something drips onto her thigh. She had been scratching at her arm with a pen and it broke through the skin. A few drops of blood bubble up. "Oh shit," she swears and reaches for a tissue to dab it up.

......

Much to her surprise, Jonah does reach out when he gets back. He invites her out with his friends and she reluctantly accepts. She meets him at his apartment where a few others have already gathered. He welcomes her in with a warm smile and introduces her to everyone.

"This is my girlfriend, Jesse," he tells her. Emma hadn't anticipated meeting a girlfriend. Jesse is a bit taller than she is with shoulder-length hair. She has the same warm smile Jonah has.

"It's nice to meet you. I've heard so much about you."

"Oh," Emma says, stunned. "It's nice to meet you too."

After a bit of pregaming, Emma feels calmer and actually confident enough to converse with these strangers. She quickly realizes they are all trust fund babies. Each of them casually adds something to the conversation that shows their money. They don't even realize they're doing it.

She gets into the club without having to show an ID. When you're with the right people you don't need to. Emma had never been to a club before. Even if she was old enough, it wasn't something that appealed to her. It seemed like a societal oddity to her. Despite the drinks, she still stands tense.

Jesse picks up on this quickly and appears in front of her with shots. As drinks flow and lines are taken it becomes calmer. Her new friend brings her out with the others to dance and she giggles along as they push through the dance floor.

A few songs in, Jonah finds them spinning around in the crowd. He makes his way behind Jesse who greets him with a kiss. Emma sees that her dance partner has been taken and tries to casually back away. A hand grabs hers before she can get too far and pulls her back. "We're leaving. You wanna go with us?" Jesse asks. Emma looks at the attractive couple and knows this isn't a platonic offer. She nods hesitantly.

Somewhere in the bottom of her purse, her phone vibrates. She doesn't take the time to listen to the voicemail until later. Later, when she's made the questionable decision to walk back to her dorm in the lilac morning sky. 

_ "Hey, Em."  _ Roman pauses to take a breath. _ "I know you're mad at me right now, but please listen to what I'm telling you right now. I know Destiny talked to you back in December about Peter having dreams. I'm having them too. I just wanted to tell you to be safe and keep your guard up. I don't know what's happening, but Peter has some theories and they're not good. It's going to upset you to hear, but there's a lot of things you don't know. It's safer that way. I just want you safe." _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!!!!!! I've been super busy at work with the holidays!!! anyway's things are getting juicy. I fucking hate miranda but I love the drama.
> 
> Happy holidays to everyone!!


	17. Really Don't Like U

\- HG -

Roman's mind had been blank for so long that he had forgotten what dreaming felt like. He felt lost in a world that had once become a second home to him. During his coma, he had wandered into places he never thought he would return to. On bad days he wishes he could experience it once more.

The dream he has that cold night is nothing like the bright one he had in his coma. There were no bright gardens outside of the mansion, no golden rooftops with Peter, and no unfamiliar embodiments of his sister. It's nothing of the sorts.

He dreams of a dark night, a white mask, a snake, and a doll. They appear to him like strobe lights, never coming to their full existence. The story is never completed but he still wakes up covered in cool sweat. A hand reaches out to check on him, but he pushes it away and grabs his coat.

The car practically steers itself. Roman doesn't know where he's going, but his gut tells him to keep on the gas peddle until he gets there. He turns down a street he's never been on before and only slows down at the sight of a decaying neon sign. 

_ gone sis _

He pulls onto the gravel road lined with mobile homes. His headlights illuminate Peter Rumancek. Somehow, Roman's not shocked. It's almost as if it was a given. Of course, Peter was involved. "Mother fucker," he swears under his breath. 

"What are you doing here?" Peter asks as Roman gets out of the car.

"I could ask you the same thing."

"You know why I'm here," Peter snips.

"I don't know why I came," Roman admits. "I had a dream and now I'm here. That's all."

"It's not that simple, Roman," Peter argues and walks closer. "There's a reason we're both here right now. We're supposed to be doing something."

"Yeah? Well, whatever it is we're supposed to be doing, I'd rather do it alone." Roman turns and walks back to the door of his car. Peter runs after him as he drives off, but gives up quickly. Roman was stubborn, and in his own time would come around. Peter just hopes that time comes before it's too late.

Roman passes the flashing blue lights before Peter does. He's about 10 minutes away from  _ gone sis  _ when they fly by but he knows where they're headed. He knows that  _ goddamn gypsy  _ was on to something. He calls the only other person he has to warn. At almost 300 miles away he's sure she has nothing to worry about. But it's a subconscious peace gesture.

\- Philly -

Roman's warning crackles away in the back of her mind like a dying fire. It sparks up for a moment, creating a bit of panic that doesn't last. She does, however, double-check the lock on her dorm room that night. He had probably been drunk or high or both and trying to scare her. She doesn't trust him and he doesn't scare her either. 

She sleeps in late and pouts when she realizes she'd missed breakfast at the dining hall. All she wants is a plate full of scrambled eggs and toast, but she settles for a cold cut sandwich instead. She has the mother of all hangovers and a dull pain in her right nostril and sinuses. Those rich kids really go hard.

When Jules gets back that afternoon, she turns the overhead lights on without warning. The intrusion of light makes Emma bite back bile in her throat. Her head pounds and she can only squint her eyes open. "It smells like vomit in here," Jules notes.

"There is vomit in here."

"Gross," she mumbles. "Take that shit out."

"Mmmm," Emma groans. She slowly rises from her bed and searches for her slippers. "Okay, okay."

When she returns to the dorm Maggie and Jules are in the middle of a conversation. Emma nods a hello then buries herself under her bedding. There's a bit of muffled whispering she can't understand than a shift in her bed as someone sits on it. "You wanna dye your hair?" Maggie asks as she pulls the covers back.

"Not really," Emma replies.

"Come on, let me do it," Maggie begs. "Have you ever dyed it before?"

"No."

"It'll be fun, I promise."

The slight change in her reflection doesn't feel nearly as weighted as her self-inflicted hair cut last year. It's a pretty shitty dye job, too. Emma wonders if the box of dye has been sitting in Maggie's dorm since her first break-up back in September. It barely sticks to Emma's hair and will definitely wash out within a shower or two.

She almost talks about the night before, but she becomes embarrassed. It's not that she thought her friends would judge her. She's afraid of what they'll think. She's sure they wouldn't judge someone for that, but would they judge  _ her _ ? Would they worry that she liked them? Was she the only judgmental one?

As the dye sits and burns into her scalp, she tries to not think about it. It had been clear from the moment they left that this was a premeditated attack. The couple had known where they planned on the evening going. It had been far from a great sexual experience.

The thing is, when you're only there as an added experience that's all you are. She is an oddity to be observed. The attention was nice but she'd equate it to eating a bag of chips. You'll eat and eat until you're sick but you'll never get full. She'd do it again in a heartbeat.

It had stung a little bit when she realized no one  _ actually  _ liked her there. They didn't want to know her either. She'd felt like there was an actual human connection being made with Jesse, but clearly, it was a ploy. 

She had liked her. She seemed cool and had good taste in music- and even better taste in drinks. Jesse looked so cool and confident. She held herself in a way that Emma could never quite achieve. She wonders, if they had met without Jonah could have been friends?

She wishes Jonah hadn't been there at all, really.

\- HG -

Roman hates it. He hates the hold Peter Rumancek has over his life. His life had always been destined to be sinister, but Peter only brought more suffering. He had been fine until he showed up on his doorstep that day. Things had been as close to perfect as they could get. He's accepting what he already knew to be true. Whatever bond he and Peter shared was stronger than before. 

He wakes up to a nightmare again that night. Almost exactly the same nightmare as before.

Peter's hand is raised to ring the doorbell when the door opens. Roman's stares out, still half asleep to the panicked boy outside. Word vomit erupts from Peter's mouth as he tries to describe what's happening. "This guy in the white mask, I think he killed that family. And I think he killed the mom and her son last night."

"Yeah?" Roman yawns.

"I think he's going to do it again. The kid on the tricycle. He's going to run him over."

"So what are you saying? A psycho freak in a mask is going around killing people?

"Yeah, but he's making them look like accidents."

"Why?"

"I don't know. That's why I'm standing in the last place either of us wants to be at right now. If we can figure out-"

"What do you want?" Roman cuts him off.

"Last year Destiny kept telling me to pay attention to the dreams... I didn't, that's why everything went bad."

"Well," Roman tries to sound tough. "If this is your way of apologizing for leaving me like a coward, duly noted."

"I was a coward," Peter admits. "It wasn't about the people who trashed the trailer or the cops... I didn't want anything to remind me of Letha- of everything I lost. Everything  _ we  _ lost. You were my only friend and I abandoned you." Peter looks Roman in the eyes, truly sorry for the pain he'd caused him. He turns to leave.

"Peter," Roman calls out as he walks away. "I- I don't know what you're talking about with a tricycle. I'm dreaming the same things as last time but it's ice. It's not anywhere in particular, but I just know it's ice."

"Do you think the two are connected."

"I don't know," Roman shrugs. "Maybe it isn't a killer thing. Maybe it's an accident, the truck slides on ice and hits the kid. It's just coincidences."

"It's not," Peter sounds sure. "I don't know why but he's hunting something. I can feel it in my gut. I know his instincts. He's a hunter too."

"I'll let you know if I see anything else. Good luck. Be safe, okay?" He doesn't wait for a response before going back inside.

He walks back up the staircase and is surprised to see the baby's door is opened once again. When he enters the room and sees that it's just Miranda he feels instant relief. His attempts to convince Peter that things were okay had failed on himself. His mind always goes to Olivia when the baby is involved.

He doesn't say anything as he watches the baby suckle at the unrelated woman's breast. Roman hadn't found an explanation for what had happened when Miranda arrived. She can't explain how she knew the codes to get into the room, she just did. She doesn't know why she began breastfeeding the baby, she just knew she was supposed to.

Roman couldn't find a logical explanation for it. Strange things followed him and those around him, this was no exception. After it had happened, he hadn't explicitly said she could stay with him. There was some unspoken understanding that she could, and should, stay there. The baby called to her and she answered.

He had fucked her that first night she showed up. She had found him strange and a bit intimidating, but he was  _ Roman fucking Godfrey _ . Miranda didn't know what that name meant then, but she knew that she had been lucky to find him opening that door. 

He's lucky to see her standing there, presented to him like a gift. She asks a lot of questions, but she doesn't ask much out of him. She doesn't ask for his attention, she only fights with him when she finds out about the baby. She's happy to be there, and most importantly she is there.

She hasn't been trying too hard to get her car fixed, and he hasn't pushed it too hard either. If he really wanted her gone he could just buy her a new one, or give her the one he gave Emma. Anytime the thought crosses his mind he grows cold. He doesn't want to go back to come home to an empty house. He doesn't want to hear the baby cry anymore. He doesn't want to talk to about it either.

So, he doesn't. He doesn't ask her to sleep in his room with him, but he doesn't ask her not to either. It hadn't been every night, but since Emma's 'visit' Miranda had been avoiding him. Lucky for her, her car parts had mysteriously started arriving. It turns out that she's a coward just like him.

When she sees him standing there he knows that it's time to speak. They both do. She waits until Nadia is fed and asleep before she moves. Placing the baby in her crib in the center of the room, Miranda walks past him. When the door is shut behind them, she stops to lean against the wall.

"I should go," she states.

"What?" He asks, surprised to hear her say that.

"Whatever happened last weekend I don't want to get in the middle of."

"There's nothing to get in the middle of," he chuckles but she isn't amused.

"I'm not a home wrecker."

"No one said you were," Roman says with a puzzled look.

"She clearly thinks I am," Miranda says about Emma. "And I refuse to be insulted or treated like such."

"She was just surprised, that's all. It doesn't even matter," Roman defends the absent girl. "If you really want to leave I understand."

"Do you want me to go?" Roman looks down to think.

"No," he admits. "I don't want you to go. I don't want you to think I'm some cheating piece of shit either. Emma's a friend, she just gets... concerned," he settles on.

"Are you ever going to tell me who the baby's mom is?"

"No," Roman shakes his head. "It's complicated, that's all there is to it."

\- Philly -

They say the only way to push through a hangover is to keep going. Emma doesn't know if that's true but it didn't matter that much anyway. She wants to go out with  _ her  _ friends. The night before had been fun and fine, but it left her with a bad taste in her mouth. Tonight, she wants to drink screwdrivers and let Jules invited her to the frat guys she had met.

It's strange how one little incident can create so many repercussions. If Emma hadn't gone out with her friends she wouldn't have ended up at the crowded house party. If she wasn't at the crowded house party she wouldn't have had so much to drink that she vomits in the corner of an empty bedroom. She wouldn't have pushed through her discomfort to dance with Maggie to some dumb pop song. If she hadn't been dancing with Maggie that guy in the green shirt wouldn't have groped her.

She wouldn't have pushed her way into the hallway with Maggie being dragged behind her. She wouldn't be in that hallway now saying she wants to leave. When Jules and one of her sorority sisters appear she tells them she wants to go home. None of them seem too interested in going with her. 

She thanks the universe for sending Liza her way. She says she's ready to go too so they can walk back together. They giggle at their shivering as they walking along the snowy sidewalks. Emma tries to catch a snowflake or two on her tongue. Her failed attempts seem so funny at that moment.

There comes a fork in their journey. Liza's apartment is to the right, Emma's dorm is further ahead. The bulk of the trip is over and it's time for them to part. With a sigh, Liza releases her arm and pats it. "Have a good night, Em. Drink some water."

"You too," she returns and gives a small wave while walking away. 

The layer of sweat on her body has turned cold and her dress clings to her thighs awkwardly. As she pulls at it, she can't shake the feeling that she's not alone. It's Roman's voicemail playing games with her. It's her paranoia fucking with her. It's not real.

Looking around, she assures herself things are fine. She's almost back to the dorm anyways, just a few more minutes. Shivering and crossing her arms for warmth, she picks up her pace. She should have just called a cab. 

The sound of crunching snow from behind her has her stopping. Emma glances over her shoulder again and sees nothing. Just her own footprints in the snow behind her. She takes another step forward and hears the strangest sound. It's a loud metallic sound. Her first thought is that it sounds like the noise a baseball makes when it's hit with a bat. 

It takes a moment to realize where the sound is coming from. It clicks right before the pain hits. The sound had come from a collision to the back of her head, a deafening vibration runs through her skull. Fight or flight kicks in, and flight wins but it doesn't succeed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops. My bisexual is showing.
> 
> Marry Christmas and happy Hanukkah!!!! I was going to wait to update, but I'm going to be stuck at family things for the next 24 hours and I wanted to make sure you guys had something to distract you from it all;)
> 
> I also might a little drunk off of eggnog and writing a drabble right now...


	18. Sedated

"There we are," an older man's voice coos. "Follow the light with your eyes." There's a bright flash and it's like looking straight into the sun. Emma tries to keep up but gets lost. "Do you remember your name, sweetheart?"

"Emma."

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Do you know what city you're in?"

"Philadelphia." She hears the doctor take a few steps away.

"Patient is concussed," he says quietly. "No obvious memory impairments. Delay in basic motor functions and eye movement."

The next time she remembers being awake she's in a bland hospital room. The curtains around the windows are drawn and the only light comes from a small lamp. Looking around, she sees her mom sitting in the corner flipping through a magazine. "Mom?"

"Oh," she beams. "I'm so glad to see you awake. I'll call a nurse." Emma closes her eyes until she hears her mother return. "Are you in pain?" She nods yes. Her entire body aches. 

"What's happening?"

"Relax," Kay tries to soothe her. A nurse comes into the room calmly and approaches her. "She said she's hurting."

"I bet," the nurse chuckles and checks her IV. "That was a nasty fall you had."

"Fall?" She asks. She cringes at the memory of the sound echoing through her ears, but she can't remember falling.

"Yep." The nurse injects a fluid into her hand. "You slipped on a patch of ice. You've got a couple of stitches on the back of your head."

"My arm?" She asks looking at the firmly wrapped gauze around it. 

"It's just a small injury. The doctor can explain better than I can."

"It doesn't feel like a small injury," Emma mumbles as the painkillers enter her system. Looking around for a clock she sees that it's barely 8:00 AM. Her mother must have sped the whole way to get here that quick. She takes a couple heavy blinks and looks up at the tiled ceiling. Her head pounds and the cut in the back of her head has made itself known.

"Are you hungry?" The nurse asks. "We can get you something to eat."

"I'm okay," Emma says with a cringe. The thought of eating with this headache makes her queasy. Her tastebuds are stained with the flavor of stale alcohol and mouth breathing. "Maybe a drink?"

"Absolutely. If you change your mind about food, let us know. Dr. Marron should be here any minute."

The door clicks behind her as she leaves. Emma lays her head back on the starchy pillow and closes her eyes. The fluorescent light burns through her eyelids but it would take too much effort to ask for them to be turned off. It seems like an eternity before the door opens again.

The Doctor introduces himself to Emma, having already met her mother. He opens his laptop and begins typing away as he speaks. "Well," he says then turns the screen around. "You have an olecranon fracture on your right arm," he points to the line of her x-ray. "Along with a small fracture on your wrist. We're going to go in and put in a couple of pins and then put a hard cast over it."

"And her head?" Kay asks.

"Grade three concussion. You were conscious when medics arrived, so it's hard to be sure. You don't seem to have any severe impairments, though, so I'm not too concerned. That's not to say you're in the clear. The next few weeks won't be fun, " he says as he shuts the laptop. "The University will be opening an investigation into the accident."

"Why?" Emma asks quickly.

"What kind of an investigation?" Kay asks nearly at the same time.

"It's required anytime there is an injury on campus. They'll want to find the cause and make sure they're not liable. Typically they wrap up rather quickly, a statement is taken and then it's over."

"Why?" Emma asks again.

"The University has to look for structural issues- chips in stairs, unsalted sidewalks... Or tracking down who provided alcohol to an underage student and whether or not that individual is affiliated with any student organizations. In case of a lawsuit, or other legal matters."

"I don't remember falling," Emma says. She closes her eyes and rubs them with her fists. All she can recall is the sound. "I won't have much to say."

"That's not unusual," he assures her. "The University Police will probably stop by sometime today."

"How long will she be staying here?"

"At least tonight." He turns to speak with Emma. "You'll go into surgery first thing in the morning, we'll get your elbow all fixed up, and if you feel up to it you can be on your way."

"Perfect," Emma says.

"Get some rest." He stands from his seat. "Don't hesitate to call for a nurse if you need anything."

In a matter of minutes, after he leaves the room, she's asleep again. The conversation had been exhausting and very confusing for her. It's overstimulation. The information comes quicker than she can absorb it. 

She doesn't wake up again until it's lunchtime. She's thirsty. Very thirsty. They bring her a place of lunch with a small orange juice, but it's drained before the nurse leaves the room. Upon the first bite of her sandwich, she realizes she's hungry as well. It had been well over 24 hours since she'd had anything to eat.

She eats, or devours really, her meal without a word. She leans back against her mattress when she remembers her mother is there. "You feeling better?" The older woman jokes.

"Not really, no." Emma smiles a pained smile. "My whole body hurts and I'm dizzy."

"You've got pain meds for the first part, but, unfortunately, you're going to be dizzy for a while."

Coincidentally, a different nurse from earlier knocks and enters her room. She injects something into her IV and takes her food tray. She feels like a little girl again having her mom help her to and from the restroom. While washing her hands, she catches a look at herself. 

It's nothing she hasn't seen before. It's the face of someone who had obviously been out the night before. To be honest- she'd looked worse. At least someone took her makeup off. That's more than she normally did.

Instinctively, her good hand reaches back to run her fingers through her hair. It's oddly tame, someone must have brushed it. She grimaces at a few tender spots but pauses when feels a foreign material on her head. It's on the upper left side of her head, and her hair is parted around it.

"Did they cut my hair?" She croaks to the other side of the door.

"What?" Her mom's response is muffled.

"My hair?" She opens the door. "They shaved off my hair."

"Well yeah," Kay responds. "It would be unsanitary if they didn't. It's standard for stitches."

"Fuck," Emma sighs. She returns to her bed. She waits for her mom's assistance before trying to lay back down. She hates feeling so dependent. One wrong move and she's crying out from the pain in her arm.

She stirs awake again. There are no windows in her room but she has a feeling it's in the afternoon. Her mom isn't in her seat. Emma's throat is desperately dry and she craves water. After waiting a few minutes for her mom, she rings the nurse's button and asks for water.

"Here you go," the nurse says when she enters a few minutes later. "The University Police are here, but I told them they had to wait until you woke up."

"Oh," Emma says between gulps.

"Do you want to wait for your mom to get back?"

"No, that's okay. They can come."

Emma's palms sweat as she waits on the officers to come in. She's unsure of what to say to them, and her gut reaction is that she'll get in trouble. She had been drinking that night. If they did any other tests she would definitely test positive for other drugs.

Two uniformed men enter her room and take a seat. The taller one pulls his chair closer to her bed and offers her a handshake before sitting. She hesitantly returns it with her IV prodded hand. "Hi, Emily. I'm Officer Brady and that is Officer Louse. We have a couple of questions okay?"

"Okay," she says slowly.

"You're not in trouble, you're not a suspect and you're not obligated to answer any questions. Do you understand?" Emma nods. "Can you give me your full name?"

"Emily Elaine Parker."

"What year are you?"

"I'm a freshman.

"To the best of your ability, can you tell me what happened last night?"

"I don't remember," Emma answers.

"You don't remember anything? Anything from before the incident?"

"I mean- I was at a party."

"Where at?"

"The Lambda Kappa Pi house. I don't know an address."

The officer asks an abundant amount of redundant questions. How did you get there? Who were you with? Blah, blah, blah. Emma answers as many as she can, but her mind draws a blank the longer the interview goes on. A lot of "I don't remember" replies are in the air.

"Your blood alcohol concentration was at .172, which doesn't do you any favors," the detective says. Emma says nothing and picks at the blanket instead. "That's pretty high for your size."

"Okay."

"Did you leave the house alone?"

"Um, no," she thinks, trying to ignore the pounding in her head. "I was with a friend- Liza Merrit. She walked part of the way then we separated."

"Do you know about what time that was?" She shakes her head no. "Or whereabouts on campus you were?"

"Yeah," Emma says and shows him on a map.

"Okay, I think that's all we need for now." The officer stands. "We'll keep you updated."

Kay returns as they're exiting out of the room. They give her a card with their numbers and names for her to call with any questions. She hands Emma a paper bag. "I got you a muffin."

"Thank you," Emma says as she unwraps it. She picks at it with her fingers, taking small bites at first.

"What did they ask you?"

"Just generic things... Where were you." She rolls her eyes and takes a bite. "That kinda stuff."

"I'm surprised they didn't give you more time to recover. Some of your memory could come back."

"I hope not," Emma shudders. "I'd rather not remember." They sit in silence for a moment before Emma speaks again. "Where were you?"

"I got lunch. Then, I went to check into my hotel," Kay explains. "Nothing fun."

"You're staying?" Emma's shocked that her mother could get the time off from work.

"Of course," Kay responds. "You can't take care of yourself right now. Look at your arm."

"How long are you staying."

"Until we get everything figured out," Kay answers curtly. Emma almost comments on her attitude but doesn't. She can see how exhausted her mom looks, and how inconvenient this all is to her mom. 

"Where are you-" Emma stops before the sentence comes out. She knows where her mother is staying, and she feels stupid for not figuring out immediately. "Where's Roman?"

"He's on his way. He should be here in an hour or so."

"Why'd you call him?" She groans.

"Because he'd want me to?" Her mother responds, baffled. "And I assumed you would want him to know." Emma slams her head back, forgetting she has an injury there. She swears at the pain. "Well, excuse me if I can't keep up with your fights."

"It's not a fight because he doesn't have an argument to make."

"You guys used to never fight, I don't get it." Kay slumps back and opens her book. Emma would love to have an explanation to share but she doesn't.

........

Roman doesn't arrive until later in the evening when her mom has left and she's finishing up dinner. She struggles with her not-dominant hand to pick eat jello. She knows he's there before he knocks. There's a shift in the air she breathes in and it chills her skin. She anticipates his knock before his hand is even raised. "Come in."

"Hey," he says, taking his time to shut the door quietly behind him. "How are you feeling?"

"Why are you here?" She asks with as little interest as possible.

"I wanted to check on you."

"Well, you checked on me. I'm fine." She picks at her jello and doesn't lookup.

"Emma," he sighs. It's the sigh he always does when he wants to have the upper hand. The moral high ground. He's the one putting everything aside for her safety, and she's the problem. She's heard it a million times before. "Something's happening."

"Yeah. I'm trying to eat my jello in peace and you are ruining that."

"You don't like jello."

"I still want to eat it," she retorts in a fashion that only validates his sighs. 

"Have you had any strange dreams?"

"Stop with the dreams. Just stop."

"I get that you're mad at me, but this is serious," he argues with his eyebrows raises high.

"Roman, I have a broken arm, a broken wrist... And," she adds after a stab at the jello. "I have a concussion which I always seem to have whenever your dumbass dreams get involved."

"You know that they're not just dumb dreams," he counters.

"I don't know that at all."

"I'm telling the truth."

"You don't exactly have a great record on being honest," she snips.

"Are you in love with me or something?" He shoots.

"No," she swallows back a snarl. "I'm fucking furious that you didn't tell me the truth."

"I didn't tell anyone-"

"You told  _ Miranda _ ." She tries to bite back the disdain in her voice, but based on his reaction, she doesn't think she did a great job.

"She found out on her own," he says before letting out a deep breath. "She doesn't even know the whole truth."

"Knows more of the truth than I do."

"You know everything. Now."

"If I hadn't come back that day, would you have told me?" He doesn't answer. "I didn't think so."

"Please listen to me," Roman's voice waivers. He takes a seat on the empty chair and covers his mouth with his hand while he thinks.

"Okay," she concedes.

"I didn't want anyone to know anything. Anything at all. Not about me, not about the baby, not about Olivia." Roman bites his lip and looks up from his seat. "If I had you would have been the first person I told. Probably the only person I'd have to tell. Miranda finding out about the baby was an accident. She just wandered her way in and-"

"Then why is she still there?"

"Because she... She has a special connection with the baby."

"Special connection?" Emma snorts.

"It's hard to explain."

"You keep saying that, but I don't think it is. It's not hard to tell the truth."

"The truth is strange," he counters.

"Don't I know that?" He chuckles at that but she only stays serious.

"I suppose," Roman says while covering his mouth again. "It's just a lot... And the baby... That's hard to explain to anyone. I'm terrified of what I'm supposed to tell Peter. He'll find out eventually."

"Tell him the truth?" She suggests. Some part of her finds it pathetic that here she is, hurt- both physically and emotionally, and she's trying to help him. Trying to make things easier on him. He should be tending to her, she thinks. "Tell him what you wouldn't tell me." Roman's face drops quickly.

"I already said I'm sorry," he says. "What more do you want?"

"I want you to mean it," Emma says as if it's obvious. "I want you to mean it, and I want to stop with this petty fighting bullshit. I don't want to live in this cycle that you keep pulling me back into?"

"What cycle am I pulling you into?" He asks.

"This- this constant half-in and half-out of my life thing. Everything's fine for a while, and then suddenly you're in a mood or something and you're gone and I don't know when you're coming back- If you're coming back. I've been worried sick about you for months, but there was nothing wrong. You just wanted to hide this from me."

"I'm sorry," he reiterates.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I explained that I didn't want anyone to-"

"Why didn't you tell me about her?" Emma interrupts him. "I would have told you if I was seeing someone. I'd  _ want  _ you to know."

"Are you?" He asks a bit too calmly. "Are you seeing someone?"

"Don't turn this around on me. This is about you."

"So you are," he leans forward a bit. "Good for you." He pats her leg. "Who's the lucky guy?" Emma stays straight-faced and doesn't answer. "Or lucky girl?"

"Quit deflecting," she says with a quivering lip. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Why wouldn't it?"

"Because it doesn't really involve you, does it? You're here, I'm three hours away. It just got away from me. A week turned into two..."

"And two turned into a month of avoiding me because you didn't want me to know."

"Emma." He doesn't have a good lie to tell.

"Saying my name isn't a response." She slams the spoon down, giving up. "If you didn't want me around all you had to do was say so."

"That's not what-" He blinks hard to prevent an eye roll. "I don't see why it's such a big deal. Miranda is the least significant part of this."

"Exactly. This is something incredibly normal that you didn't want me to know about. If it's not a big deal then why wouldn't you tell me?"

"Because I don't even understand what is happening." His voice momentarily softens before becoming stern again. "And to be honest, Em, I don't feel like you're telling me everything either."

"What do you think I'm not telling you?"

"Why does this bother you so much?"

"I've already told you-" She starts.

"I don't think that's all." Roman stands from his seat. He doesn't have to complete his thought for her to know what he's thinking.

"Oh, fuck you," she calls out as he leaves.

"You know," he pauses before continuing to the door. "For someone who says they're sick of fighting, you really know how to pick a fight."

........

The next morning she wakes up the same sterile smell she fell asleep with. She's sedated for the majority of the morning. When she wakes back up she has a nice hard cast on her right arm that's a nice dark blue.

She eats her bowl of macaroni mush for lunch and watches basic cable. She's not even sure where her phone is but doesn't have much of a desire to contact anyone. The University would have contacted Jules and from there it would spread like fire. She was fine, anyways.

Later into the afternoon, a knock hits sharply on the door. Kay, who had nodded off a bit, jumps. Emma sits up, hoping it's her doctor there with discharge papers. She frowns when a man enters instead. He's not with the hospital or the university, that much she can tell.

He smiles at Kay as he enters. He's young, almost  _ too  _ young. Both of the women look him over quickly with curiosity and distrust. He wears street clothing. Kay looks to Emma for some clue as to who he might be, a friend, perhaps? Emma doesn't meet her look.

"Hi, Ms. Parker. I'm Detective Finn Stewart," the man greets her. He turns to shake Kay's hand which she hesitantly returns. "I have a couple of questions I'd like to ask. In private."

"I already gave my statement to the police," Emma says sternly. This guy didn't look like anyone official.

"I'm not with the police. I'm from the Office of Public Health Preparedness and Response in Washington." He pulls his badge from his pocket as if he could sense she didn't believe him.

"My daughter has already given a state-"

"Mom." Emma puts her good hand up. "It's okay. I'll answer his questions." Kay meets her eyes for assurance and leaves with a nod. When the door is shut, he moves to pull the shades down.

"Mind if I take a seat?" She shrugs. He casually pulls the chair closer to the bed and sits with one leg crossed over the other. "How are you feeling?" He asks and he retrieves a small notepad from his jacket pocket.

"Cut the bullshit," she responds sharply. "The last time someone from a random government agency came around some really weird shit went down. Who are you?"

"I'm Detective Finn Stewart," he tells her again. "I'm investigating a string of strange events that have been happening in the North-Eastern region of the country. You're from Hemlock Grove, correct?"

"Yes."

"So, I'm assuming the last agency you interacted with was Fish and Wildlife?" Emma nods suspiciously. "That's a very.... different agency than the one I work for," Detective Stewart chuckles.

"How so?"

"I'm not," he leans in and lowers his voice. "I'm not looking for any wildlife. The things I'm investigating are very human."

"The officer from Fish and Wildlife wasn't looking for wildlife either. What makes you different?"

"I'm not an officer," he corrects her with a smirk. "I'm a detective."

"You said you had questions?" She hurries him along.

"Yes." His smirk drops into a forced smile. "I have the statement you gave the police, but there are a few things I'd like you to fill me in on."

"Like?"

"Are you aware there is no one by the name Liza Merrit attending UPenn?" This catches Emma's attention. "There's an Elizabeth Merrit, but she goes by Liz and is Ph.D. student. Plus, she's 47. I don't suppose you hang around with 47-year-olds."

"Not unless she looks really good for her age," Emma mumbles and gets a single chuckle as a response.

"If I've found that out, the University won't be too far behind," he says. "They'll want a better description from you. Contact info..."

"She could have gone by a nickname? Maybe, I don't know."

"Possibly," the detective says. "But, it's important that I get that information before they start digging."

"Why?"

"As I said, I'm investigating several different events. I need profiles of everyone involved. Do you have any photos of your friend?"

"No."

"No social media accounts?" He asks.

"I don't really use social media that much," she explains. "Why does it matter? She wasn't there when I fell."

"Did the officers tell you anything about how you were found?" He asks abruptly.

"Just that I had slipped and was at the bottom of the stairs."

"Three stairs is a fairly short fall for this much damage."

"I had been drinking quite a bit," she admits.

"I'm aware. Did you know there was a trail in the snow behind you? As though you had been pulled forward by your feet."

"I only know what they told me."

"There was also vomit about three yards behind you. Any memory of that?" She says nothing. "Is there anything you remember that you didn't share with the officers?"

"No," Emma thinks. "I don't remember much. I- I just can hear a sound. It's hard to describe."

"What kind of sound? A voice?"

"No." She shakes her head and twitches when it rings in her head. "Just a ringing."

"Interesting."

"Is there something you know that I don't? That they don't?"

"Have they not shown you the back of your head?" Emma doesn't answer. "Here," he says handing her his phone. Scrolling through the photos she recognizes the color of her hair illuminated by the cameras flash. Instead of one injury like she had expected, there is a mess of hair covering up several. "They took those as soon as you arrived. Looks a little violent for a fall, don't you think?"

"I don't know."

"You see, based on this photo, there are at least three different areas of impact."

"So?"

"One slip on ice would only equate to one injury. Why are there three?"

"I don't know, I'm not a doctor," she spits at him.

"I don't think you slipped, and I think your doctor would agree with me." The detective takes his phone back from her hands. "It's a disaster of a crime scene, really. Whoever did this did a pretty sloppy job? Don't you think?"

"Then what happened?" She asks. "I wasn't robbed, I wasn't raped. I just have a broken arm and a couple of stitches. It sounds like an accident to me."

"Exactly. Everyone thinks it's an accident, don't they? Everyone but me," he explains. "It's pretty obvious to me that this was supposed to look like an accident. Emphasis on the  _ supposed to  _ part. Because it's also obvious to me that it's not."

The detective scoots closer to her bed and grabs her napkin from lunch. With his pen, he begins drawing a rough sketch of the area around the staircase. "Here," he says and draws an X. "Is where you were found. Way over here," he draws another. "Is where we found vomit. Here are where there were very minute disturbances in the snow. There were no footprints found, but the snow was disturbed in a few other areas."

"This is the result of incredibly poor planning," the detective concludes.

"What are you investigating?" She asks. "You said there was a string of similar events. Were they the same?"

"They were similar," he says. "A month ago there was a boy in Michigan that was hit by a car when walking home from school. They haven't been found, but the police think it's a hit and run. The car slid on black ice. The last investigation I did was in the eastern part of Ohio. A kid fell through an ice sheet on a pond."

"The ice? Is that it?" She asks with some judgment. "You're making connections based on ice-related accidents."

"No," the detective says seriously. "I'm making connections based on deaths that looked like accidents."

Emma licks her dry lips ass her stomach drops. There's no way he could make any connections based on the limited information he has. It made no sense. "So you think someone wants to kill me?"

"Not wants, tried. I'm not sure what got you in the middle of all this, but I would advise you to stay away from any... Any abnormal  _ people  _ or events," he cautions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact about Elia time: When I was a kid I played baseball and got hit in the head with the bat without a helmet on. I can still hear the noise and it makes me gag lol.
> 
> Also, yes, yes I did create an OC specifically based on Cody ferns aesthetic. I don't even watch American Horror Story, but I can't help it, I love him.
> 
> Thank you all for reading and for all your support!!! And thank you for being understanding when it takes forever for me to get a chapter out lol. I promise that were will be at least one update per week unless I give you a heads up otherwise!
> 
> Last but not least- I'm still working on that drabble and I'll make sure to let you know when it's posted!


	19. Poke

Emma is discharged early the next morning. Her mom, without hesitation, drives her straight to the hotel. She hadn't been here in months, and wonders when Roman was last here. It's completely plausible that he had to come to Philadelphia and just didn't tell her. She wonders if he did, did  _ Miranda  _ come with him?

The hotel room looks barely used. A weekender bag sits on the desk and the bed is made. She takes a seat on the edge of it and bounces a leg. "Are you leaving today?"

"Probably tomorrow," Kay says as she sets down the paper bags from the hospital pharmacy. "We'll need some time to get our ducks in a row."

"Do I need to get a doctor excuse from the hospital? I'm sure my professors know by now."

"No, of course not. I've got all the paperwork sent over to the school," Kay says. "We have to get up and go see your advisor at 10:00 tomorrow."

"Why?" Emma questions.

"He's going to talk to the dean about your records, or something, and make sure the transition is smooth."

"He doesn't really have to do that," she says. She's eager for her mom to go back home so things can get back to normal. "I can handle it. I'm only missing a couple days."

"Emma," her mom says seriously. "You can't actually think you're going back to class like this."

"Like what?"

"How are you going to do your classwork? You can't write or type, you haven't even gotten a CT scan yet. No neurologist would let you go back to class now."

"I'm not coming home," she says with a nervous laugh. Her face drops when the severity of the situation hits. "I'm not coming home, Mom."

"This isn't up for debate, Emily," she says sternly as tensions rise. "You have no way of completing this semester. You can't even write for God's sake."

"You don't get to make that decision! I'm not a child!" Emma's voice raises. 

"You are a child!" Kay exclaims. "You are  _ my _ child, and I'll be damned if I let you stay here! Do you know what it's like to get a call at 4 in the morning that your kid's in the ER? No, you don't! But I spent all of last year waiting on that call-"

"Mom-"

"Do you think I can't put two and two together? Maybe the police can't, but I can. Where are your bruises? They keep saying you slipped. You should have a back covered in bruises, but you don't. You were a drunk girl wandering around on campus in the middle of the night. It's pretty obvious to me what happened. And until that school does a real investigation to find out who did this, you are not going back."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Emma growls. The muscles in her chest clench and her mouth twitches. Her natural reflex was to put up a fight. But she's tired, and she's dizzy, and her arm aches. Perhaps Roman had been right, maybe she was too eager to pick fights. Even when she knew she was wrong.

"When you figure out a better solution you let me know, okay?"

....

Roman paces his hotel room with a glass in hand. He's not sure why he came here in the first place. He'd received Kay Parker's phone call in the middle of the night. She'd only called him a handful of times before-  _ are you coming for Emma's birthday dinner? Have you heard from my daughter? Tell her to call me. _

None in the middle of the night. 

He had intended to reach over and ignore the call-  _ fuck Pryce and whatever he's _ \- but he stops. He stops what he's doing and answers it. On the other end, he can hear the clear and collected voice explaining what had happened. Or, at least, what she knew so far. It's a calm speech that only someone who has worked in an emergency atmosphere could have. The panic is underneath, but that's not what is important now. 

He's barely dressed when he's searching for his car keys. Miranda follows him downstairs calling after him. "Where are you going?" She keeps asking.

"Business emergency," he lies. "I've got to get to Philly." He's not sure why he lies. There's nothing to hide, but he just doesn't want her to know. The more he pats attention to himself the more he realizes that the lies slip out of his mouth without reason.

"When will you be back?" She asks as he finally fins his keys.

"I don't know."

"Roman-" Miranda is interrupted by him closing the door.

Roman makes it there in record time. He hadn't gone straight to the hospital, of course not. He wanted to, but he didn't want her to know that. He stops by the hotel to greet her mother first. Kay thanks him for coming out and being there for her daughter. Roman tries his hardest to give her a modest smile. He says "of course," of course he would be there. She pats his arm. A fine young man. That's what she had said to him on his 18th birthday. That he was becoming a fine young man.

Emma's propped up by the elevated bed. Her hair is pulled back into one single braid and she uses her less dominant hand to poke at her jello while she spits out angry sentences. Her other arm is bound tightly and hanging in a sling. Despite the tensions quickly escalating, he fights the urge to come closer and take the spoon from her hand and do the work for her.

She's still angry. He can see that she doesn't want him to know how angry she is but he sees right through it. It's not bitter anger, either. It's obvious to him that she's hurt.

"I'm fucking furious that you didn't tell me the truth."

"I didn't tell anyone-"

"You told  _ Miranda." _

_ That's it _ , he thinks.  _ There it is _ . He raises his eyebrows and takes a long blink. He tries his damnedest again to explain everything. Well, mostly everything. He dodges the part where Miranda is breastfeeding the baby. That would only bring more trouble. 

Frustrated he asks in hidden desperation what she wants him to do.  _ Mean it _ . He wants to, but he can't. He isn't sorry. Not for what she wants him to be sorry for anyways. She knows that he's being honest, that he didn't want to tell her about him or about the baby. He didn't want to tell anyone. She knows that. If he was going to tell anyone it would be here, she knows that.

For Miranda, he can't apologize and mean it. He wasn't sorry for not telling her. Would it have made a difference, anyway? Probably not, he determines. It's not for the simple accusation he throughs out. She's not  _ in love with him or something.  _ He knows that, but it hurts her when he says it and that feels good.

He is hers. Maybe not romantically or sexually, but in experience. There were all of these things that only he could understand. He could say the same for her. But Roman doesn't want to be held by those bounds. Bound by that past. By a fabricated reality.

....

"At least you get the room to yourself, I guess?" Emma offers and she tries again to zip her suitcase with one arm. She had been packing for a few hours now. Her mom had been doing the major lifting, but there's only a little bit left now. Her side of the room is barren except for the furniture that belongs to the school. 

"Yeah, I guess..." Jules hangs her legs off the side of the bed. "It's just bummer."

"You're telling me," Emma says under her breath. She stands, finally having zipped the suitcase. She pulls it to an upright position and leans on it. "I'm coming back for the summer, though. I don't think I can handle going back to Hemlock Grove for long."

Oh, that reminds me," Jules says with some excitement. She opens her dresser drawer and grabs a gift bag. "Me and the other girls pooled some money to get you a going away gift," Jules frowns as she hands her the bag. "We know you've been bummed about... Everything at home and we know there aren't any cute guys there so we thought we might help out." Jules' face turns giddy as Emma uses her good arm to dig through the bag. Emma holds her breath as she touches plastic.

"Thanks," Emma tries to not laugh while turning beet red. In her hand is an unopened package with a phallic object. "I'll think of you guys every time I jerk off."

"That's all I've ever wanted to hear from you," Jules says wiping away fake tears.

....

Emma makes one last stop on campus before the ride home. Her mom waits in the car outside of the old brick building while she runs in. She walks down the myriad of hallways until she's surrounded by offices. Finding the one she's looking for is open, she taps gently on the door.

"Hey!" Dr. Lowenstein greets her from his desk. "Come on in! I'm glad that you came to see me before you left," he says with sympathetic eyes. "I'm so sorry to hear about what happened."

"It's okay. Just wrong place wrong time I guess," she shrugs and walks further in. "I wanted to see if there's anything I should work on for when I come back?"

"Well, I'll be gone for the summer semester so it'll be fall before we see each other again," he explains. "I'm leading a graduate student program abroad into Greece."

"Oh," she nods. "That'll be a lot of fun I bet."

"I hope so," he smiles. "But here." He swivels his chair back to his bookcase. "I have a couple of books I want to lend you."

"You don't have-"

"I want to," he stops her. "Just bring them back in the fall and we can talk about them." He hands her a couple of worn books with detailed artwork on the front of them. "This is a Slavic book of folktales. The other is a Celtic book of fairy and folk tales."

"Thanks," she smiles and takes them. She lets her hands run over the coarse and rough exterior of them before feeling the brittle pages. 

"Don't worry. They're old but they're sturdy," he laughs at her before lowering his voice. "I heard that the University isn't going forward with an investigation."

"Yeah, probably not," Emma says awkwardly. She actually hadn't payed any attention to what they had told her mom that morning. "Not much to investigate, I suppose. I'm just an idiot."

"You're not an idiot," he tells her. "When I was your age I almost died jumping into a river. Now, that's stupid."

"You should never jump into water you can't see into," she jokes.

"Yeah? Well, lesson learned."

"Dr. Lowenstein, I have a question."

"I might have an answer."

"Well-" she hesitates. "What are vampire children like?"

"It depends on the cultural context. In our western media, they don't age or grow. They mentally might grow, which causes its own problems... But yes, they stay children. They have no restraint-"

"Um, no," she interrupts him awkwardly. "I mean the children of  _ vampires. _ " She says the word quietly. It sounds so silly.

"Oh, Dhampirs," he realizes. "Again, it depends on the culture. According to Albanian legends, they have no shadows, large ears, dark... But overall fairly normal members of the community according to most. Some say that they're great vampire hunters, others say they're worse than the vampire who created them."

"Why are they hunters? If they're part vampire..."

"It's supposed to be an act of revenge. The birth of a Dhampir will always kill the human mother, leaving them orphaned." Emma nods with her eyebrows furrowed. "What makes you ask?"

"Twilight," she says as soon as she thinks of it. "It was on while I was at the hospital."

"Oh," he laughs to himself. "Those stories have very little in common with vampire history. They are not good sources of information."

"I didn't expect them to be," she laughs it off with him.

....

It's well into the evening before Kay's car is parked in the driveway. 

Emma doesn't sleep much that night. Maybe 20 or 25 minutes here or there, then she'll toss and turn for 30 more. It's an old aversion tactic coming back. If she sleeps all day she won't have to see her mother. 

She hides out in her room for most of the day. Any feelings of homesickness she thought she had were now long gone. She didn't miss this place at all. She didn't miss her bed, she didn't miss her shower. She only missed her cat a little bit, but not enough to justify this. And like some shitty pop-punk song, she hates this fucking town.

Kay has to go back to work the next night. She'd missed so many days that Emma would feel bad if she wasn't angry. She doesn't plan on leaving her room until after she's left. She doesn't want to hear, but Kay has other plans. 

She's watching TV on her computer when there's a soft knock at her door. She doesn't answer, but the door opens anyway. "Hey," Kay says. She steps in far enough to lean on the doorframe. Emma doesn't have to look at her to know that she's dressed in her scrubs, ready to go.

"Look, honey," her mom starts. "I know you're mad at me right now, and I can't blame you too much. If I were you I'd be angry too." She pauses in the event of a response. "I only do these things because I care." Emma rolls to face away from her. "I promise, you'll go back as soon as you can."

"Okay," Emma says once she realizes her mother won't leave without a response.

"Are you and Roman still fighting?"

"We're not fighting," Emma reminds her.

"Okay..." Kay nods to herself. "Does Roman still not have an argument?"

"No."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No." Emma hears her mother let out a deep breath. It's followed by the sound of the door closing and footsteps.  _ At least I didn't pick a fight this time _ , she thinks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, what a transitional chapter. I'm glad that's over. Bleh. I hate when Roman's being an asshole, which is always, but i can't help it. He has a mind of his own... As always thank you so much for reading. It's late here, so I didn't do much proofreading, but I'm going to double check everything tomorrow. Much love!!
> 
> Also...... https://eliaelliot.tumblr.com/post/190134090307/im-on-fire-drabble


	20. A Fool

"Stay very still," the technician says over the speaker. Emma closes her eyes and steadies her breathing. The flat bench vibrates then begins moving back. She can her the circle around her spinning. The process repeats a couple of times before she's allowed out.

It's already been a long morning. It took almost an hour of waiting before she gets to see the doctor. Then, another hour in a different waiting room for a CT scan. By the time she's back in her mother's car, she's ready for a nap. Emma's let her mother handle scheduling the doctor's appointments. It's not like she has anywhere to be, or anything to do. A full week hadn't even passed since she came home.

"It's a moderate head injury," the doctor says after greeting them. "I'm estimating that you lost consciousness for around 30 minutes, but I haven't heard anything from the other hospital about it."

"They haven't said anything else to us," Kay says.

"I understand that you don't remember the injury happening, correct?" Emma nods. "What do you remember from before? How much time passed?"

"I know that I was walking back to my dorm, but I don't remember doing it. I just know that I was."

"Well, most people are back to their normal selves at six months. If you have any symptoms after six months we'll give it a year. After a year, that's when we'll start considering that it might be permanent."

"What symptoms could last?" Her mother asks as if she hadn't sat on her phone all morning reading about them.

"My biggest concerns are always fatigue and irritability. Those usually go hand in hand with each other. If one stays the other probably will too," she explains. "For now, headaches, cognitive impairment, light sensitivity... That stuffs pretty obvious now. But, the fatigue and mood swings, that sort of sneaks up on a lot of people."

"What should we be doing?" Emma rolls her eyes at her mom's question.  _ We?  _ Since when did Kay have a head injury?

"I want you taking it easy for the next three months. That means no school, no exercising, no standing for long periods of time. No driving for at least two weeks. I trust your mom to make a final call on that."

"I don't have a car," Emma says.

"Most importantly, keep your stress levels down. When people's symptoms get worse it's usually because they're stressed. I would keep track of how you're feeling day-to-day."

......

Back home, Roman's day-to-day life returns to normal very quickly. He'd only been a few hours late on Monday, but everything else was normal. 

Pryce calls him to his office on Thursday. Roman walks with a particular rhythm in his step. Although he doesn't trust Pryce, he needs something from him. He needed to be fed a quickly. Roman knows he's lucky to have access to donated blood, even if it is a limited amount. He could make Pryce give him more but it wouldn't make a difference. It didn't matter. It never seemed to be enough.

It's sitting there on his desk in a clear beaker. The closest thing to ambrosia that Godfrey money could create. Pryce barely gets in a hello before Roman's urgency makes itself down. The doctor carefully picks up the beaker and hands it to him.

He chugs down the chunky liquid without a second thought. It's only when the glass is back on the table his stomach turns. The texture is horrible, and the flavor... The flavor is horrific. It's as if he expected a soda and instead got a poorly flavored seltzer water. A seltzer water with chunks. Pryce watches Roman's face and rushes forward to grab the glass.

"Remember, you still have a fresh comparison," Pryce says. "After a few weeks of synthetic, you won't notice a difference- or much of one."

"I find that hard to believe." Roman fights back the urge to vomit.

"It's still a work in progress, but in time I think it will be revolutionary."

"How long until you can have it ready regularly?"

"Right away, I suppose." Pryce takes a seat. "But it's like wine. The longer you wait the better."

"I can't imagine this getting better, Pryce."

"It will. The flavor will always have that... lightness to it. That oily texture won't go away. It's a compromise. I can, however, promise that in time the larger particles will go away."

"Can't we just- I don't know, strain it."

"Roman," Pryce smiles condescendingly. "That's where the majority of the substance is. If we get rid of it what will be left is mostly water." Roman doesn't respond. "After a few more trials I think I can get the quality of the liquid up. What you have for now is, essentially, a parthenogenesis embryo and amniotic sac smoothie."

"That's unappetizing," Roman shudders.

"So is ripping a human's throat out, but you have to pick your poison." Pryce smiles. "I'll try to come up with a more appealing name, how about that?"

"I'd rather not be reminded of what I'm having."

.....

Another three days pass of lounging around in pajamas. The TV stays warm the pages of the books Dr. Lowenstein lent her a flipped. She's completely off of prescription pain killers, but her head only feels worse with every passing day. It's like a migraine that keeps growing stronger. It's late into the afternoon when a knock at the door disturbs her.

"Hey!" Peter smiles at her once the doors open.

"Hi," Emma replies, stunned. Peter still being here never crossed her mind. She had assumed he came, asked for money, and left. "I didn't know you were here."

"Yeah, I've been staying with Destiny," Peter says. "I work at the auto-shop. It's just until everything with Lynda is settled."

"How is- um- how is she? What's going on?"

"Still in jail." Peter grimaces. "Hopefully not for much longer. We're working on it."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. She's okay."

"She's a tough lady."

"She just keeps saying that she get's 'three hots and a cot,' and not to worry," Peter laughs. "Jails not the worse place she's lived."

"How's Destiny?"

"She's good. She's planning her wedding. You should go see her sometime."

"Why?"

"I don't know. She just said so."

"Interesting..." Emma mumbles then is silent.

"You wanna go get lunch or something?" He asks awkwardly.

"Yeah, sure."

.....

The car ride is silent and so is waiting for the food. Emma doesn't know what to say. There's not really any new news, and bringing up the past seems like a bad idea. She doesn't even want to talk about that. The diner is busy, so the silence isn't too terrible.

The waitress drops their food off without a word and keeps moving. Peter quickly begins to dig into his food, only stopping when he sees Emma struggling to cut her waffle.

Peter grabs the plate from below her hands and begins to cut the waffle apart for her. "Thanks," she says quietly. He hums in response. After he slides the plate back to her, he digs back into his burger.

"What's it like being back home?"

"Awful," she snorts.

"Yeah. It's pretty bad coming back..." Peter trails off. "Me and Roman are going out for drinks later. You can come if you want."

"You guys really made up, huh?" Emma smiles, a bit surprised.

"I wouldn't say that," Peter laughs softly. "It's just... The date, y'know?" Emma shakes her head before she remembers the day.

"Oh, yeah," she says. "That makes sense, I guess." A year. It had been exactly a year since the vargulf had been killed. A year since Christina Wendall had been killed. Time seems to have gotten away from her. A whole year since Olivia had told her to kill Chasseur. A year since Emma almost gave in to that temptation.

"So, do you?"

"Huh?" Emma's drawn from her dark red memories by his voice.

"Do you want to go with us?"

"Oh, no." Emma shakes her head. "I'm good." He doesn't reply, but she can sense that there's something he wants to say. "You can just ask," she says with her mouth full. Peter pretends to look confused. "That's why you came over- Roman. You don't have to dig around it."

"That's not why I came over," Peter admits quietly. "I wanted to ask about your accident."

"What about it?" Emma swallows her bite.

"Did you have any weird premonitions before? Anything seem off?"

"No more than normal." She laughs. 

"Roman told me you had seemed paranoid." Emma's face drops.

"I'd been stressed, that's all."

"You told him you felt like you were being watched?"

"Peter, I know what you're thinking."

"What am I thinking?"

"That something happened... Someone did something," she says as she stabs at her plate with her fork. "Nothing happened. I was drunk and walking alone at night. Case closed."

"What if it isn't?" He asks. 

"Then so what? I'm fine."

"You easily could have not been," Peter points out. "Head injuries are incredibly dangerous. Are you sure you don't remember anything mo-"

"Yes," she says a bit too loudly. "Everyone keeps asking me that. Why would I lie?"

"I'm not saying your lying but-" He stops. "Who else? Who else is asking?"

"The school, my mom, the detective-" She lists off.

"You've been talking to a detective."

"He came to the hospital-"

"Where's he from?" He cuts her off again.

"Department of Emergency Preparedness or something."

"He's a fed," Peter growls. "What else did he ask?"

"Just what happened. It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal?" He scoffs. "Don't you remember the last time a fed came digging around here?"

"Of course I do," she replies sternly. "I saw that woman with her skin peeled off, you think I can forget?" Peter doesn't answer. "It's not a big deal, Peter."

"It is a big deal," he hisses back. "People are dying, Em. Kids are dying."

"Why? Why are they dying."

"I don't know."

"Well, if you find out how I'm involved you let me know. Other than that, I'm not doing this again. I've gone through enough." 

"Destiny wants to see you."

"Why?"

"I don't know, she just told me to pass the message along."

.....

It's not long before her curiosity gets to be too much to ignore. There are two new cars in front of Destiny's apartment when Emma arrives. They're pretty nice- too nice to Destiny. Emma doesn't think too much into it.

A man she's never seen before opens the door when she knocks. He barely cracks it open and looks her up and down suspiciously. He doesn't speak, he only waits. "Is... Is Destiny here?" She struggles to ask.

She's relieved when he opens the door and calls out Destiny's name. She comes out of her "office" with a large mug in hand. She motions for her to come in further. "Hey, take a seat." Emma looks at her then to the man in the room. He seems oddly overprotective and stiff. "This is Andreas'," Destiny explains. "He's my fiancee."

"Oh," Emma says. "It's nice to meet you."

"Andreas," Destiny says when he doesn't reply. "This is Emma, she's a friend of Peter's."

"It's nice to meet you too," he finally greets her. "I'm going to go run some errands and stuff."

He exits the apartment quickly and suspiciously. The strange feeling she had in her gut leaves with him. Destiny can sense her concern and takes a seat across from her. "He's paranoid," she says. "He's wary of strangers. A lot of us are."

"I understand."

"How is it?" Destiny asks and nods towards her arm.

"It doesn't hurt too bad."

"Was it gnarly?"

"I didn't see it." Emma plays with the edge of her cast. "Clean break, though."

"Goddamn," Destiny swears. "You want a drink?"

"I'm fine," Emma declines. "Peter told me to come see you."

"Really?" Destiny smiles. "I figured he wouldn't."

"Why?"

"I pissed him off quite a bit," she says as she opens up a drawer on the side table. "He didn't reply to my text."

"What did you o?" Emma chuckles.

"I told his little girlfriend to not fuck with him." Destiny finishes her sentence with the distinct  _ click  _ of a lighter being lit. 

"Peter has a girlfriend?" Emma questions as the smell of weed quickly fills the apartment.

"Not really, no," Destiny says through stifled giggles. "It's that little chick that's staying with Godfrey."

"What about her?" Emma asks, barely able to keep her interest at a normal level. "What's Peter doing with her?"

"He's  _ helping her with her car _ , apparently." Destiny holds her joint out for Emma to take, but she turns it down.

"Her car's still fucked up?"

"It's taking a long time to track down all the parts," Destiny says sarcastically. "I told him to give me a list and I can have the Amazon Primed here in 48-hours."

"What did you say to her?"

"What she needed to hear." Destiny shrugs. "To not fuck with Peter."

"Peter didn't tell me this," Emma says. "He didn't say that he'd met her, actually."

"Probably didn't want to upset you."

"I don't care," Emma scoffs.

"Sure."

"I don't!" She protests. "I don't like being lied to. Why is that such a hard thing to believe?"

"Emma," Destiny asks for her attention gently. "If he hadn't fucked her would you hate her this much?"

"That would make this very different, yes," she says. "But it's not in a weird jealousy way. It's that she's using him, you have to believe me, Destiny. She's bad news."

"Did you not listen to what I just said? I know she's bad news, that's why I told her to stay the fuck away from Peter. If things go bad with Peter, and they will, he will have his heartbroken. If things go bad with Roman she'll get her throat ripped out. I really don't give a fuck about her throat."

"Throat ripped out, huh?" Emma asks.

"I know you know," Destiny tells her. "I could feel it before I even knew you were here. I can feel a bunch of other stuff going on in there too." She taps her head.

"What did she say back?" Emma asks.

"That it wasn't any of my business, that she wasn't a prostitute, blah, blah blah... I told her I didn't care what she did for money as long as it didn't involve Peter. I know a fucking grift when I see one, I've ran enough of them."

"It's suspicious," Emma mumbles.

"It really is," Destiny agrees. "I told her I didn't buy her bullshit. I don't think there was an accident, not a real one anyway. What she doesn't know is that Roman is an evil sack of shit and that I can be a vengeful mother fucker when it comes to Peter."

"Wow."

"It felt so fucking good," Destiny laughs. "She was pissed, you should have seen her face."

"Peter's lucky to have you standing up for him."

"Peter needs someone to stand up for him," she corrects her. 

"I haven't seen her since I met her," Emma admits. "I hope to keep it that way."

"If she's smart she'll hop town before Roman gets bored."

"I think he might actually like her," Emma says but Destiny laughs loudly.

"Roman doesn't like anybody but himself. He's going to spend the rest of his excruciatingly long life paying for pussy in one way or another. This isn't any different."

"I guess..."

"Can I see the back of your head?" Destiny asks. Before Emma can respond, she's standing behind her tugging around at her hair. "You're lucky you have long hair to cover this up with."

"Thanks."

"No, I'm serious. This looks really bad."

"I know. It's a mess."

"Look, I don't take Peter's intuition too seriously." Destiny crosses back to her chair. "But I don't think it takes any weird vibes or dreams to be concerned about that."

"Everyone keeps saying-"

"I'm not saying anything spooky happened," Destiny says with a hint of an eye roll. "I'm just saying you've had some bad luck since I've known you."

"Maybe you're the cause then," she jokes. Destiny puts on a fake smile but it falls.

"I think it's likely just a case of wrong place, wrong time... But I'd take some precautions if I were you."

"Like what?"

"Burn some sage, purify your space. You're not going out on full moons, are you?"

"I don't keep up-"

"You should," Destiny warns. "Never forget your fates. It's a fool's belief that he can outrun them forever."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!!! I had a really long work week so I haven't had much time to write but I have most of the next chapter ready so it won't be another long wait!
> 
> Thank you all for reading/liking/commenting. I know I say it every time I post but it means so much to me<3


	21. Beginning's End

_Closing time_  
_Open all the doors and let you out into the world_  
_Closing time_  
_Turn all of the lights on over every boy and every girl_  
_Closing time_  
_One last call for alcohol, so finish your whiskey or beer_  
_Closing time_  
_You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here_

Emma hears it first. She falls in and out of sleep unable to tell whether it's in her dreams or not.

_ I know who I want to take me home. _

It gets louder and louder and louder until there's a loud knock on the door. She thinks it might just be the wind, and turns trying to fall back asleep. The urgency of the knocking argues with the warmth of her comforter for her attention. The knocking eventually wins. 

_ I know who I want to take me home _

With a quick shiver, she slowly makes her way downstairs. It's loud and off-key. She doesn't even bother with the porch light. Opening the door, she can't even act surprised. "What?" She asks and follows with a yawn.

"Let us in," Peter says. "It's cold."

"It's late," she counters.

"Please?" He asks. She stands aside as they both stumble in and land on the couch. Emma stands with her arms crossed and watches as the two boys slump together. 

"Did you guys need something?" 

"Water?" Roman says like a question.

"I meant something from me. I'm not a waitress."

"Okay, I'll get it," he says and pushes himself up. He wobbles and falls back. "In a minute. I'll get it in a minute."

"I'll get you some blankets," she says.

"We're not staying," Peter responds quickly.

"You can't leave. I'm surprised you made it here in one piece."

"I drive better drunk than sober," Roman reminds them. With a heavy groan, he finally forces himself up and stumbles to the kitchen.

Peter has already found the television remote and is flipping through the channels. At this time of night, it's mostly home shopping and old TV show reruns. His eyes blink, heavy, and he struggles to stay awake.

Hearing a rattling in the kitchen, Emma goes to investigate. Roman stands leaning back against the counter with only the oven hood's giving off a dim light. He has an expired pack of hamburger meat in one hand and eating it with the other. He's so invested that he barely hears her.

"You need to sleep," she says entering the kitchen.

"I'm hungry," he says without stopping. She moves past him to get a glass from the cabinet. She fills it in the sink. "Thank you."

"It's not for you," she snips. "It's for Peter. You know where the glasses are." Emma moves past him and to the living room. 

Peter has taken his shoes off and curled into the corner. She puts the glass down on the side table. She goes upstairs to find and an extra blanket for him, and when she comes back Roman has joined him. The couch is fairly small and they're both tall. It's quite silly looking.

The sky is turning lilac when her eyelids finally start to feel heavy. It's ruined in a moment's notice. The door creaks open and is shut slowly. She cracks her eyes open, ready to tell Roman to fuck off, but is relieved to see Peter. 

"What're you doing?" She asks.

"Roman keeps getting really close to me," he says, sounding a bit sobered up. "His body heat is absurdly high."

"Yeah," she chuckles. She scoots over to make room for him. He's surprised but accepts the offer. 

"How are you doing?" He asks.

"I'm okay."

"No, for real."

"I'm lonely," she admits. "I miss my friends, but mostly I'm bored."

"You should have come out with us tonight."

"I can't drink. Brain injury," she reminds him.

"Oh shit. How long for?"

"I don't know. It depends, I guess."

"You seem to be doing okay."

"My head hurts and I'm tired all the time."

"That's how I feel without a brain injury," he jokes.

"I also keep forgetting what I'm doing, then I remember I'm not doing anything," she says before laughing. "I'll be fine. Then I'll forget where I am."

"Does your mom know about this?" Peter asks.

"No," Emma admits. "She doesn't need the stress."

"You two having a good time?" A voice wakes her up again. "We should go before your mom get's home." Roman leans against her doorway with an unlit cigarette in his hand. He rolls it between two of his fingers impatiently.

"Fuck," Peter groans and rubs his eyes. They must have only been asleep for 30 or so minutes. He doesn't even remember drifting off.

"Let's go, let's go, let's go," Roman waves to him. 

"Lock the door," Emma says, barely awake.

"Oh, no," Roman says with a head shake. "You're coming with us."

"Oh, no I'm not," she snips back. "I'm tired. Two assholes woke me up in the middle of the night."

"Will you please come with us?" Peter asks and smiles wide.

"Fine." She throws the covers off of herself and dives into the arctic winter air in her room. "But only because Peter asked."

They take Peter's beat-up truck because Roman's expensive, luxury car can't fit the three of them. Emma sits awkwardly between the two boys and tries to not doze off. The ride is long and boring. Peter's truck can only pick up a few radio stations, one of them being a backwood Appalachia station.

They come across a town but keep driving through it. It's a couple miles out before the stop. It's still a residential area, but the homes have become more distant from each other and they difficult to see through the morning fog. "Where are we?" She asks.

"I had a dream about this-" Peter says.

"Jesus fucking Christ," she swears. She really didn't want to get roped into this. 

"It's okay," Peter assures her. "We're just doing a little check to make sure everything's okay."

"You brought me all the way out here for a little check-up?"

"No," Roman defends both of them. "We brought you all the way out here because of the-" He points to the back of her head and clicks his tongue. "The thing."

Emma sighs and gives in. She's already here, she might as well go through with it. She takes her time following behind them, though. Peter's already knocking on the door before she even makes it to the porch steps.

He gives it a few minutes and knocks again. "Maybe no one's home," Roman offers.

"No," Emma says. "The car's here and there's no tracks in the mud. Someone's home." Peter knocks again, this time louder and more aggressive. "Maybe we shouldn't do this. I wouldn't take advice from two strangers."

"We have to try," Peter says desperately. "We have to do something." 

"Let's go around back," Roman suggests. 

At the back porch, they don't find much luck either. The three stand and look between each other. In the silence, her ear can pick up on something. She can't place the sound, but it's coming from the house. "Do you hear that?" She asks.

"Yeah, I do." Peter nods.

"Let's try cellar," Emma says. "It's an older home. It probably has stairs up." 

The boy nods to each other. The cellar door is old and sketchy. Its wood is chipped and only has a cheap chain locking it. Roman digs into his jacket pocket for his winter gloves. "Don't touch anything," he whispers back to them. With one pull the chain is free. 

Roman opens the door with his gloved hands and looks down. There's no ladder and no light. He lowers himself through and turns on his phone's light. "There's a staircase," he calls back up. Peter hops down without caution, Emma follows.

The basement looks haunted. That's the only way she can describe it. 

Once they're upstairs the noise becomes louder and more recognizable. It's water, more specifically water from a faucet. "Upstairs," Peter says frantically. He takes off running to the staircase. The upstairs is carpeted and as they get close to the noise it makes a soppy sound. It's soaked.

Peter doesn't hesitate to open the door but doesn't move past that. Emma steps next to him and peers in. She quickly covers her mouth to muffle the scream that begs to escape her throat. A hand pulls at her shoulder, but she won't walk away. Roman tries to pull her back again but gives up.

The bathroom floor is flooded with at least an inch of water. The bathtub flows of the sides of its rim like a waterfall. There's a faded bloodstain around the inside of the tub. An adult woman and a young boy are laying back in the water. The boy is floating. 

Moving past Peter, Emma ignores the calls for her to stop. She bends down next to the bodies and grabs the woman's wrist. It's poorly cut. She only has a semester worth of anatomy but she can tell it must have taken a while to lose enough blood. A glance to the other arm reveals another poor, but deeper slit.

Emma grabs the closer wrist from the ice cold water. The protests of not touching anything are lost in the air. Peter approaches from behind her and tries to intervene but it doesn't matter. Emma gives the dainty wrist a slight squeeze. A small bit of her remaining blood dribbles out onto her hand. 

_ It's early into the evening. The woman is cleaning dishes in the kitchen when they come in. There's two of them- a woman and a man. Both are in white masks. The woman holds a gun straight to the mother.  _

_ In the bathroom, they kill the mother first. Then they take the small boy, screaming and crying, and push him into the bathtub with his dead mother. He stops fighting not long after the plunge. _

"It's horrible," she says, quickly looking up at Peter. "It's so bad."

"We should go," Roman says frantically. "Put her arm back in the water."

"Go outside," Emma tells him.

"We gotta go." He rubs his mouth and paces on the wet carpet.

"Roman," she calls to him. "It's the blood. Go outside." He gives in, nodding and leaving.

"What was it?" Peter asks softly.

"Two people in white masks, like you said."

"They killed them?" Emma nods. "When?"

"Last night, probably."

"Fuck!" He shouts angrily. He failed them.

.......

"Where were you this morning?" Her mom asks and places a plate in front of her.

"I went and got breakfast with Peter before he went to work." Emma tries to tell herself that's what happened. There was no house, no bathtub, no bodies.

"Peter's back in town?" She asks with a bit of hesitance. Kay had avoided asking direct questions about the boy's disappearance but eventually pieced some of the story together. "Where's he working?"

"He's working at the garage on Olive Street. The old one."

"Good for him," she says. "He's doing well?"

"His mom's in prison," Emma says and pokes around at her plate.

"What for?"

"Some bullshit charges." Kay's not sure what to say so she takes a few bites before changing the subject.

"Have you thought about what you're going to do?"

"What I'm going to do?"

"You should find something to keep you busy while you-"

"While I'm what?" She cuts the woman off. "While you keep me locked up here?"

"No one's keeping you locked up." Emma doesn't reply. Instead, she drops her fork and crosses her arms. "Dr. Kerry is looking for a nanny of sorts."

"No," Emma huff.

"If you're going to act like a child you might as well spend time with one," Kay says as a joke with a hint of honesty. "She's going through a divorce and needs some help with her daughter. It's just after school and a weekend here or there."

"I don't want to."

"You don't have to do it. But, the money would be good," Kay encourages. "They both work a lot, I'm sure Sydney gets lonely."

.......

"She wouldn't tell me. She said it was a secret. It's not fair. I don't have any secrets," Sydney rants as they walk down the sidewalk. Sydney is at that age where kids won't shut up. She'll go on and on forever. She talks about everything and nothing at the same time.

_ What do you do all day? What's your favorite movie? Do you have a boyfriend? Why don't you have a boyfriend? What happened to your arm? Who's your best friend? _

Every day, Emma walks her home from school, gets her a snack, then hangs out until her mom gets home. On Wednesdays, she walks her to her Girl Scouts meeting. Sydney jabbers on the whole way. Emma's perfected looking interested in what she has to say.

"I'm sure you have some secrets."

"Nope!" Sydney declares. "I don't have any."

"Everyone has secrets, Sydney."

"Do you?" Emma nods. "Like what?"

"They wouldn't be secrets if I told you," Emma teases. "There are just some things that I don't want other people to know."

Emma walks Sydney into her Girl Scout meeting. It takes place at one of the auxiliary rooms at the community center. The girl runs off to meet with her friends leaving Emma standing alone. She looks around at all the moms talking like old friends. They probably were old friends- Hemlock Gove High School Alumni for sure.

One of the moms seems out of place. She can't place it, but something feels weird. When Emma turns to leave the room she can feel two eyes burning into her back. She doesn't look back.

.......

" _ Hi, this is Detective Stewart. I'm currently unavailable. Please leave your name and number and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thanks. _ " Emma takes a breath and waits for the loud BEEP.

"Hi, this is Emily Parker. We spoke in Philadelphia a few weeks ago..."

He gets back to her within an hour. He's interested to hear what she has to say but says they can't speak over the phone.  _ I think it's best we keep things face to face.  _

He's at the diner in town within an hour as well. She wonders where he came from that allowed him to get here before her. "Hi-" She greets him and slides into the booth.

"Turn off your phone," he interrupts quickly and a bit snappy. Emma does as she's told with a rebellious lack of urgency. "Sorry," he says. "You never know who can get into the speaker of your phone. Here, have some coffee."

"Why would someone want in my phone?"

"Why would I come to question you after your accident? You have very  _ interesting _ friends, Ms. Parker."

"You can call me Emma," she tells him.

"Alright." He nods suspiciously, as if it's been a long time since someone offered him a human connection. "What happened?" He asks flipping open his little notepad.

"I just saw something familiar, someone looking at me," she stumbles out. "I can't explain it, I don't know what it was. It just felt familiar."

"That's it? Someone was looking at you?" He asks sounding a bit annoyed. Emma immediately feels the need to make his trip worthwhile.

"And my friend... He has these dreams-" Emma starts as a waitress appears. The two sit in the booth awkwardly as she rambles on about the specials for the day and what soups they have. Hurriedly, they both give a small order to get the woman away. The detective smiles to the waitress but his face grows serious as soon as her back is turned.

"Dreams?" He asks.

"Well, visions really." She corrects herself. 

"One of your interesting friends?" He looks up from his writing.

"You could call him that, I guess."

"What did he see?" Emma does her best to describe the things Peter had told her. She's sure a few things got left out, but he got the idea of it. "Would your friend want to talk to me?"

"Probably not," Emma says. "He's doesn't trust anyone working for the government."

"Understandable," he says with a laugh. "Is there anything you're not telling me?"

"I don't think so," Emma lies smoothly. Despite the relevance, he's still a federal agent. She couldn't tell him about the break-in, or about the bodies. She especially can't tell him they didn't even report it. The corpses are still sitting there in the water.

He looks eager to respond when the waitress comes back with their food. He pushes out a fake smile to distract from the glare he's giving the poor woman. As soon as her back is turned, he leans in over the table. "Not even about the Highland residence?"

"The what?"

"The house you broke into a few days ago."

"Oh," she chokes out. "What are- how-"

"It's my job to investigate this string of murders. If you can figure out the puzzle, it leads you where you need to go."

"How did you know I was there?"

"You and your friends are not the sleuths you think you," he says with a smile. "I found a hair on the bathroom floor that didn't match the mothers. I had a feeling and I checked your cellphone pings."

"You can see those?"

"Of course. I have access to a lot of information." The detective takes a long sip from his coffee mug. "My job allows quite a bit of room for research. That mixed with a bit of observation can tell you a lot."

"Tell me something then." She raises her eyebrows. 

"You have a tendency to not eat when you're stressed. That's why your health records indicate a strong trend of weight fluctuation. But, your recent weight loss isn't due to stress, not entirely anyway. It's a result of your poor coordination after the accident. You're embarrassed that it's hard for you to hold a fork and with your arm, you can't use a knife." He nods to the barely touch meal in front of her.

"You have access to my health records too?"

"Of course! I work for the federal government."

"I don't like that," she laughs nervously.

"Don't worry. I don't snoop, I only look at the relevant information." The detective leans back into the booth with his arms crossed. "I think it would be best for everyone if you relay that kind of stuff back to me. You don't want me digging and I really don't want to do the extra work." Emma thinks about it. "Look at these bags under my eyes. Don't make me work harder than I already do."

Emma laughs before growing concerned again. "So the government knows what you're doing? That you're using psychics and other occult things to track down murderers?"

"The right people know the right things, yes. You wouldn't believe what can get lost in bureaucracy."

"Why should I get involved?"

"Because you don't anyone to get hurt." He motions towards the waitress for a check. "And because, despite repeated denials, you know they're going to come back and finish the job.

.......

Sometime's life really is like watching a horror movie. You can see the twists and turns that the characters seem to miss. Peter has found himself in the position of screaming at the screen to little or no avail. It's so obvious.

Luckily, Roman was coming to his senses. He had been the one that pushed for investigating the house. He still wasn't completely with him, though. Peter needed Roman to commit himself to this cause before they could stop it. Stop them.

Destiny doesn't want to hear about his dreams. She has made that clear from the moment he returned. If it weren't for Andreas' he's sure one of them would have killed the other by now. Him going on about his dreams and her kicking Miranda out. He couldn't even get her to return his calls now. 

They've both been so silent with each other that it startles Andreas when Peter says something. "If it's about your dreams, Peter, I don't want to hear it," she cuts him off.

"It's not about them, not really."

"Not really?" She asks. "What is it?"

"What could cause someone to have a vision?" He asks.

"Some people are naturally born with a gift." She smiles and points to herself.

"No, I mean like what you did last year with the guts and the worm. That thing. What could trigger something like that but without the guts... or the worm?"

"Why are you asking?" Her smile falls and her brows furrow.

"You can't get mad," he warns.

"I can't promise that."

"We- we went to investigate a house."

"From your dream?" She asks with annoyance.

"Yes," Peter replies. "And we found two bodies."

"And you touched one?" She guesses.

"Let me finish," he begs. "One of them, the mom, had her wrists slit open." He hears Andreas swear but continues. "We didn't know what to do. It looked like a murder-suicide but I knew it wasn't."

"Because of the dreams?" Andreas asks. Destiny slaps at his chest for encouraging him.

"Because of the dreams," Peter confirms. "And Emma just sort of went to the body and just- I don't know. She just grabbed at it."

......

For the second night in a row, Emma's sleep is disturbed by an unwanted guest. Well, she wasn't actually asleep. It wasn't that late and she was still thinking about all the things that were discussed at the diner. She had agreed to relay everything back to the detective, or  _ Finn _ , as he said she should call him now that they were working together. 

She doesn't like the idea of "working together." Being an informant, fine. Working together sounds as if she'll have to eventually do something. Emma wants to keep her involvement to a minimum. Perhaps now would be a good time to keep track of the moon again... She shakes it off. There was no proof that the things Destiny said last year had been true. 

The vibration of her phone breaks through the silence like a siren. Peter doesn't wait for her to say hello, he just tells her to come downstairs. He's parked in the driveway with the truck. "Where are you taking me?" She asks before she climbs in. 

"To Destiny's."

"You promise it's not a house with dead bodies in it?"

"I can promise we're going to Destiny's, but I don't know what she has hidden in there," he jokes.

Like Peter, Destiny doesn't greet her either. It makes Emma suspicious that they're both behaving so strangely. "Peter told me you saw something today?"

"I guess," Emma says in a questioning tone.

"Why did you go to the bodies?" Destiny approaches her and gets a little too close for comfort.

"I don't know?" She laughs nervously. "What is this? A shakedown? Peter and Roman see shit all the time."

"But you don't," Peter says in the background.

"So?" She struggles to keep up. "I didn't do anything!"

"You think playing around in blood is nothing?" Destiny asks sternly.

"I wasn't  _ playing  _ in it," Emma defends herself. "That makes me sound like a freak."

"It is freaky," Peter comments.

"I thought it was kind of like the dreams." She shrugs, defeated. "I just wanted to know what happened, so I tried to find out. It's never happened before."

"And you needed something from the person to help?" Destiny asks.

"I don't know."

"Blood magic is dangerous," she warns. "People get hurt, people can die-"

"I didn't do anything on purpose."

"I know," Destiny says. "That's what worries me."

.......

"Are you sure you're okay to go home?" Peter asks even though they're already halfway there.

"Yeah, I think I need to sleep for a while," Emma says. Her mind is overwhelmed beyond comprehension. She had hit her limit after her conversation with Finn. Destiny had just pushed her over the edge.

"Just keep your phone close."

"Are things okay now? With Destiny?" She asks once they're parked. Peter looks at her inquisitively. "She told me about what happened with Miranda."

"Oh," Peter sighs. "I'm still mad. She overstepped to start with, and now she's telling people?"

"Just me," Emma says. "She cares about you, Peter. You're lucky you have someone looking out for you."

"It wasn't her place," he replies sternly. "I want to apologize to Miranda, but I don't even know what Destiny said to her."

"Why don't you go ask her yourself?" Emma says trying to not show her disgust for him apologizing to Miranda. She didn't need an apology.

"I don't know where she is."

"Probably at Roman's unless she's met another person," Emma snorts.

"Roman's?" Peter jerks his head quickly.

"Yeah," Emma says slowly.

"Why would she be at Roman's?"

"That's where she's been since she got her. Did he not tell you either?" She chuckles. 

"No, no he didn't," Peter mumbles.

"Yeah, it's really weird. I figured he'd at least have told you."

"Yeah, me too." Peter sounds too calm. 

Emma gives him a little wave before walking to the door. She shuts it behind her before realizing something seemed off. Biting her lip, and thinking, she can't come with anything unless- "Fuck!" She shouts to the empty house. How could she be so stupid?  _ No-  _ how could Peter be so stupid? How did he not know Miranda was with Roman?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!!! Thank you for reading!!!
> 
> I forgot how much of a mess the plot for season two is. I had to change to order of events a little bit, but I'm trying to keep it sort of to the script. I think the next chapter is mainly going to be told from Roman's point of view so pray for me please. That boy made up entirely of mommy issues. He's a mess.
> 
> Anywayyyyy, much love!!
> 
> Constructive criticism is highly appreciated! If there's anything you want to see more or less of let me know!
> 
> Also, not to be #thirsty, but if anyone's really bored feel free to send me prompts or anything on my tumblr. I need distractions from my real life.😂😂😂😂


	22. The Tower

Roman wakes in the middle of the night drenched with sweat. It's not unusual anymore. He's become used to cold showers in the dead of night and fans turned on high. It's still not enough. 

He hasn't pinpointed the exact reason for the disturbance but has a feeling it has to do with his new diet. He'd thought he would have gotten used to it by now but he was wrong. Pryce has barely changed the texture. The thought of it makes his stomach turn. The only distraction from the sweat and heat is the pounding in his head. _BOOM, BOOM, BOOM._ On and on it goes like a siren alerting him of danger.

Roman's relationship with Miranda had been strange, to say the least. It had been strange from the beginning, but he could feel her pulling away from him now. He couldn't figure out what had caused it. Had he been too distant? Had he done something wrong?

If these are the emotions that run through the mind's normal people he pities them. Things were so much easier before he felt whatever these feelings were. He can't describe it. If someone asked him what he found in her he wouldn't have an answer. She's gone the night he goes to the bar with Peter. He doesn't know where she goes most of the time. It's on his mind, but he tries to not let it ruin his night with Peter. 

Roman picks him up from Destiny's house and drives him to a dive bar. They're silent for the most part. What do you say to the person who abandoned you? Then slowly, very slowly, Peter begins making jokes. In time, they're both laughing like old times.

The conversation takes a dip when Peter begins telling him about his latest dream.

"Let's go get Em and head out there!"

"Tonight?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"It's late as fuck.

"So?" He finishes his beer. "Let's head out."

"Why does she need to come?"

"Because," Roman pauses to find some reason. "She's impartial! We both are suspecting something to be up. She'll be skeptical." Peter seems to buy this.

The moment Roman takes a seat on her couch he knows he's not going anywhere. The drive there had been a blurry haze, and now he was so comfortable. The scratchy feeling of the couch beneath his skin and the familiar smell radiating through his nostrils rock him to sleep. He curls up to the closest boy he can reach.

For the first time in weeks, he sleeps peacefully. There is no pounding in his head, no waking up in a sweat. He dreams of being a child again and the times he had spent on this couch. He remembers them moving in here. It had been after a few months after her dad left. They didn't have a couch for the first couple of days.  Since Emma's father had left, she had been sleeping in her mother's bed. That was no exception to when he came over. The three of them would pile into the bed that always seemed a little too empty and stay up late watching old reruns of shows they were too young to understand. He falls asleep to the memory of the buzz of the television.

_ Boy the way Glen Miller played _

_ Songs that made the hit parade _

_ Guys like us we had it made _

_ Those were the days _

Waking up alone leaves a hollow feeling in him. He doesn't know why he's surprised when he sees Peter asleep in Emma's room. He doesn't think much until the memories from their past lives cross his mind. Peter still claimed that Letha was the love of his life and yet here he was in bed with her.

As platonic as it might seem, Roman is skeptical. He remembers her little  _ crush  _ on him. Her eyes always lingered on Letha with a tinge of jealousy. He remembers other things too. They may act like it didn't happen, but Roman remembers damn well that she had blown him when he was dating Letha. How could Peter move on so quickly while Roman is still mourning?

He was furious about it then and he's furious about it now.

Emma doesn't allow him enough time to fully steep his anger. She stirs awake. "You two having a good time?" He asks with disgust begging to rise from his vocal cords. "We should go before your mom get's home." Roman leans against her doorway with an unlit cigarette in his hand. He rolls it between two of his fingers impatiently.

When he finally gets them he finds a flaw in his plan. His car only has two seats which leaves Emma squeezing into a seat with Peter. That will not do. He announces they're going to take Peter's truck. Peter doesn't know where they're going exactly, but he knows how to get there.

When they're peaking around the outside of the house he slips his winter gloves back on. Had he known they were going to have to snoop he would have been more prepared. He has to take initiative and open the basement. He takes quick glances back frequently to make sure no one touches anything.

While Emma and Peter can hear the water, Roman can smell that sweet metallic scent. They've both ran upstairs before he can warn them. From behind, the scene is all too similar to him. It reminds him of when she stayed behind to watch Peter kill his cat.

He tries to pull her back, but she won't move. She breaks free of his grip on her shoulder and moves forward. "What are you doing?" He hears himself ask. Peter is calling to her as well, but she moves forward with a magnetic pull. "Come back!"

Roman tries to follow behind her but stops dead in his tracks. The smell hits him so hard. There's a dead mother and child in front of him and all he can think about is taking whatever blood is left in them. "Don't touch anything!" He calls out before covering his nose. 

Peter goes inside the bathroom telling her to get up. She ignores him and makes a move for the mother's arm. Roman almost breaks at the sight of the last blood coming from the woman's wrist. The look on her face is familiar with that of Destiny's when she's seeing something.

Watching her stare at the cat repeats on his head. The only thing that breaks it up is his intense focus on the blood running down her hands. Any sound is lost on him. "We should go," Roman says frantically. "Put her arm back in the water."

"Go outside," Emma says softly.

"We gotta go." He rubs his mouth and paces on the wet carpet.

"Roman," she calls to him calmly. "It's the blood. Go outside." He gives in, nodding and leaving.

Outside, he lights a cigarette and waits for them to leave. It's not a long wait, but they look drastically more exhausted. Roman insists he drives back and Peter barely argues with him. It was a good idea because Peter is asleep within 10 minutes of the ride. 

From the corner of his eye, he can see Emma's right leg bouncing. Her hands are upturned and drying blood lingers on her fingers. Mindlessly, he reaches over to grab one and licks the remaining liquid off. She doesn't even seem to notice.

He's exhausted by the time he gets home. It's barely into the afternoon when he flops down onto his bed. Even with every intention of getting up and showering, he falls asleep. He awakes to a pounding on the front door. The doorbell is sounding rapidly and followed knocks. 

Roman runs downstairs and opens the door. "Peter, what the fu-" He stops with a slam to his chest. Peter pushes past him with nothing but anger in his eyes.

"Miranda!" He screams. "Miranda!"

"What the fuck are you doing?" Roman yells at him.

It turns violent in a second. Both of them are fueled by their predatory instinct- this stranger is a threat. Neither have an upper-hand in this fight. For every action, there is an equal but opposite reaction. They're both animals at their core.

Both are so unaware of the pain a simple human would feel that the fight has no end in sight. The only thing that breaks them up is the sound of a female voice telling them to stop. Miranda has emerged from the nursery with the baby in her arms. It screams and wails.

"You never said you had a baby," Peter says while catching his breath. The two boys let go of their grip on each other. Miranda's mouth opens before she looks at Roman. He looks away.

"It's not my baby," she says gently.

"It's Letha's," Roman finally admits.

.....

Walking down the chilly street, Emma listens to Sydney ramble on and on. "My dad used to work at the white tower, but he quit." She waits to see if Emma asks any questions, but continues when she doesn't. "He got offered a job at Tesla. They make cars."

"Tesla's are expensive," Emma comments. 

"Yeah! He's going to help make them. It's way cooler than what he was doing here. He's moving to California. I'm going to spend the summer with him."

"That'll be fun."

"Yeah!" She says proudly. "We're going to go surfing and to Lego Land, and Disneyland."

"That sounds nice, Sydney."

"What does your dad do?"

"I don't know," Emma says.

"You don't know?"

"I haven't talked to my dad in a very long time."

"Why not?"

"I just haven't."

"That's not good. I hope that doesn't happen to me."

"It won't. Your dad loves you."

"Yours doesn't?"

"Huh?"

"Your dad doesn't love you," Sydney says. "That's what that means, right?"

"I don't know."

"Well, if my dad doesn't stop talking to me because he loves me, but yours did that means he doesn't love you."

"I don't know what he thinks of me."

"Don't you miss him? I'm going to miss my dad when he moves."

"Sydney," Emma says softly and bends down closer to her face. "Your parents are getting a divorce, you know that." Sydney nods. "When my dad left that was it. He left. Sometimes that happens." She stops to think about what she's saying. "I think I missed him when he left, but I don't remember that much. I don't know where he is or where he went. But you don't have to worry about that, okay? Both of your parents want to spend time with you."

"Oh," Sydney says. "I know what that means. My friend Claire's dad left them. They lived in a hotel for a while. Now they live in an apartment. I think living in a hotel would be fun. Did you live in a hotel."

"No," Emma says as she stands straight up. "I didn't live in a hotel."

Sydney doesn't linger on any subject for too long and this one was no exception. It's almost whiplash-inducing how quickly she pivots to talking about her upcoming camping trip. Emma hums and nods along, but her mind lingers on the conversation before. 

Even though it's still daylight and there are no signs of it, she feels like there's someone behind her. She jumps at the feeling of her phone vibrating. "Hello?" She answers. Sydney doesn't even notice.

"Hey, it's Finn."

"What's up?" She asks and plugs her free ear.

"I've gotten access to the final report from your school."

"Yeah?" She raises an eyebrow.

"It's as expected," he sighs. "I just thought I'd give you a heads up."

"Well, thank you," Emma says.

"I also wanted to ask you about the new sheriff in your town."

"I didn't know we had a new sheriff."

"He's been there for a couple of months-" Finn rambles on but she can't hear him over Sydney.

"Emma! Who are you talking to? Can I have a snack when I get home? I'm hungry!" She speaks loudly. Emma turns around from her.

"Can I call you back in a couple of hours?" She asks.

"I'm actually headed back to Hemlock Grove tomorrow," he says. "I'm trying to meet with this guy... Can we meet up then?"

"Sure," Emma says. She gives in to Sydneys arm pulling with a huff.

"Can you do me one favor in the meantime."

"What is it?"

"Can you talk to your friends and see what they know about this guy? I'm sure the Godfrey family has had their fair share of experiences with law enforcement."

.....

Emma tries to find a subtle way of bringing it up. There is some truth in Finn's statement about the Godfrey family, but they were in the habit of getting out of trouble- through bribery or some other means. But the Rumancek's? They were a local police station's wet dream. Scammers, rumors, thieves, and many other labels. Peter alone drew more attention than the collective of everyone she knew.

She asks Peter casually if he wants to hangout. Nothing special, just chilling and maybe hanging out with Destiny. She hates to lie to him, but Peter would be skeptical if she was honest. She couldn't blame him, but it wasn't like she was collecting top-secret information. It wasn't even anything about Peter himself. If this detective was a threat wouldn't he have acted already?

Peter opens the door when she arrives at Destiny's apartment. They say their hellos then fall silent. She sits next to him on the couch awkwardly. 

"About the other night-" he breaks the silence. "I didn't mean- I didn't know until you told me. I didn't mean to just leave you hanging like that. I was really confused."

"I know," Emma nods. She hadn't seen it as him leaving her hanging. "That's got to suck, Peter. I thought you knew or I would have told you sooner."

"It's not your job to tell me," Peter says sincerely. "Did you know about the baby?" Emma nods. "You know why Miranda's there, right? Why he said yes originally?"

"Yeah, because he wants to fuck her-"

"No," Peter interrupts with a light laugh. "She started lactating. She feeds the baby. She like its mother."

"Jesus fucking Christ." She puts her face in her hands. "How is it possible for this situation to get even more fucked up? Fix her car, Peter! Get her out of here before she ruins everything for you and Roman." 

"We worked things out," he argues.

"How could you possibly be okay with her and Ro- You didn't," Emma's jaw drops. "No."

"Well..." Peter awkwardly scratches the back of his head. "It was-"

"I don't want to hear about it," she cuts him off.

"I think you should talk to her again-" Emma tries to interrupt again but he holds up a hand. "She's actually a pretty cool girl."

"I doubt that."

"She is!"

"Why? Because she let you and Roman Eiffel Tower her?" She asks skeptically.

"We didn't... Are you slut-shaming her?"

"No. No, I-" Emma stutters. "It's just weird. How can neither of you see what I see? What Destiny see's?"

"Because you both are convinced you know what's best. You don't!"

"So you're fine with just letting some stranger from off the street care for that baby? Letha's baby?" She adds.

"It's all happening for a reason!"

"The reason is that she's a grifter! She's running a fucking con on the two of you!"

"She's having the dreams too, Em. And the baby really likes her."

"Then the three of you can go solve these murders. You can drag her out to weird houses in the middle of the morning with dead bodies. You four would make such a cute family," she mocks. "You don't even know the truth about that fucking baby. I've known Letha my entire life, and she could see the shit you and Roman are pulling she-" Emma can't continue with the sentence. Her face is wrinkled in disgust and disappointment. 

.....

Neither Roman or Peter contact her the following day. She hadn't expected them to. She does, however, wished she had asked Peter about the sheriff before they started talking about Miranda. She sits at the diner waiting on Finn to arrive even though she has no news to share with him. 

Emma had spent the last night trying to tame her emotions about the entire ordeal. If she could write it off as jealousy that would solve so many problems. That's not it, though. There is something deeply troubling about this girl's arrival. There's something wrong with her besides the obvious. A disaster is coming, she can tell.

Finn takes a seat without her noticing. He snaps his fingers in front of her face, drawing her from her thoughts. "I don't have anything for you," she says without even a small greeting.

"No one knew anything?"

"I didn't get the chance to ask." Finn nods. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he says.

"Is he going to help you?"

"Maybe," Finn reasons. "He's familiar with these kinds of people."

"These kinds of people?" She asks.

"Religious fanatics. You know his sister, Clementine."

"The sheriff is Dr. Chasseur's brother?" She says a bit too loudly. "Why wouldn't you tell me that?"

"Because I wanted to see what your friends told you. If they told you the truth. You can't trust anyone, that's the first thing you learn in my profession."

"I'm not in your profession," she points out. "I'm just trying to make through until I can go back to school."

"And I'm trying to keep you alive until then."

"How do I know you're not lying?"

"You don't," he chuckles. "But, I haven't lied to you yet. That's more than I can say about you, or you can about your friends." Emma bites the inside of her cheek hard. She's been defeated.

"If these people, if they're actually trying to kill me, why haven't they? It's not hard to find me, obviously."

"It would probably be a bit too suspicious," he theorizes. "They know who you have around you. In Philadelphia, you didn't have anyone, but it would be risky here."

"Why are they trying to kill me?"

"That, I do not know," he says honestly. "I'm sticking around for a while. I'm going to keep an eye on Chasseur and find out what he knows."

"Do you think he's involved?"

"I'm not fully convinced otherwise."

When Emma gets home, she finds it strange that the door had been left unlocked and the dull light of a lamp shines through the thin curtains. Kay never forgot to lock the door, and she never left a light on in the house. The electricity bill was high enough as is.

When she pushes the door open she doesn't know what to expect. Normally, she would expect Roman to be sitting there on her couch. But, there are actual murderers out on the loose. She takes a breath and opens the door. What she sees is worse than the masked killers.

Olivia Godfrey is back from the dead. A breath catches in her throat that she can't let go. Emma had seen the reports and photos from the funeral. She knew Olivia was dead. Yet here she was, planted on the couch in her living room. Neither move for what feels like an eternity.

"Well, aren't you going to say hello?" Olivia asks. Her voice is different.

"What happened to your accent?"

"It turns out that having your tongue ripped out can cause some difficulties in speaking."

"That makes sense," Emma says and nods as if everything is normal.

"Dr. Pryce truly is a miracle worker, don't you think? He got everything right except this damn tongue."

"You were dead."

"And now I'm not." She smiles. "Great observation skills. I've been back for quite some time now."

"Roman's just going to kill you again," she says defiantly.

"Roman's had several months to do so, and yet here I am."

"He knows?" Olivia nods. "How long has he known?"

"Long enough," she says. "I was surprised he didn't tell you. I thought you told each other everything," Olivia says clearly mocking her. Emma refuses to give her the satisfaction of a reaction. "I guess he didn't tell you about that street trash either? That's what Anna called her. Street trash."

"What do you want?" She asks softly.

"I want my son and my grandchild to be safe."

"Safe?" Emma scoffs. "You're the real threat."

"I may not have been a great mother-"

"That's an understatement."

"I may not have been a great mother," she starts again. "But this is a second chance for me. This is a new life for me. Emma, I love my son," Olivia says with full sincerity. "Maybe I wasn't a great mother, but I always wanted what was best for him."

"And traumatizing him was what was the best thing for him?"

"It was part of the process."

"Part of the process?"

"I did what was necessary," she asserts. "I wanted him to be better than me. I never wanted him to have to fuck and kill his way through the world. One day he'll see that I did what I had to do."

"What do you want from me?" Emma asks.

"I want you to watch out for the baby," Olivia admits. "Roman will never let me be there... I need someone to make sure that  _ girl _ isn't going to hurt her."

"There's a good reason Roman doesn't want you around."

"Don't do it for me then," Olivia says. "Do it for Letha, or for the baby... You don't think she's safe either. He's not a very good father, is he?"

"He's there," Emma tries her best to defend him.

"He's not looking out for her. He's not protecting her. I know you agree with me." Olivia stands and heads to the door. She turns the handle but pauses. You're lucky I got rid of your father," she adds. "There's no way you would have survived to adulthood with him around."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm sure your little detective friend can find some answers for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to apologize for how long it's taking me to get chapters out. I'm not gonna lie, I've been feeling pretty depressed here lately and I'm over worked so it's hard for me to sit down and actually write. I know what I want to happen, but it's been hard to get it out and even harder to proof read.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading! I hope this sequel isn't too disappointing. The next chapter is going to be a lot of Emma and Roman moments so I think it'll be good.
> 
> Much love  
E


	23. Honest

There's only one hotel in Hemlock Grove. Well, technically it's a motel, but it's all the same. There's a rumor that they're planning on building a Holiday Inn by the White Tower for all the visiting businessmen. For now, the shabby motel is all that the town offered. It wasn't nearly as bad as others in the area. One town over was filled with pimps and addicts. Everyone knows the owner will turn a blind eye for the right price.

The last thing Olivia had said lingered in her mind. Finn knew so much about her already, who knows what else he knew. He himself had told her not to trust anyone.

Emma stakes him out from across the street. It takes a while, but eventually, he emerges from his room. She watches him double check the lock on his door and drive off in his Subaru. Waiting until he is fully out of sight, she cross the road.

She had seen Roman do this a million times at school. Any empty classroom was free game for them to ditch in, get high in, or fuck in. Without a second thought, she jams her credit card into the latch.

A gasp escapes her lips. In front of her is what can only be described as the inner thoughts of an insane. It looks straight out of a movie or TV show. It encompasses the entire wall. Photo's, notes, maps, all connected by red string. Her eyes are immediately drawn to a familiar photo. She approaches it slowly. It's a glossy print out of her and Roman from the gala back in the fall. Connected to that one by a red string is her student ID photo.

_ Emily Elaine Parker.  _ Her name is followed by little handwritten bullet points about her.  _ 19\. Student at the University of Pennsylvania. Species: N/A. Mother Kathryn Parker. Father: Charles Parker. _

_ Roman Godfrey. 19. CEO of Godfrey Industries. Species: Upir. Mother: Olivia Godfrey. Father: Norman Godfrey. _

Emma steps back and sinks on to the bed. She's forgotten why she's here. It's too much information. Her eyes move like strobe lights trying to catch all of the information. She's so absorbed by it all, that by the time the lock is clicking open she doesn't even notice. She only looks up when sunlight streams through its opening.

"What is all of this?" She asks.

"It's like a visual connections board," Finn explains, coming into the light. "There's no sensitive information on it. Just basic stuff."

"How long did it take you to put this together?"

"I've been gathering information for almost two years now..." He sighs. "I had a couple drinks last night and thought that this might help. It's what they do in the movies anyway..."

"Did it work?"

"I don't know."

"Is Norman really Roman's dad?"

"Yes."

"How do you know that?"

"Mostly genetics. Olivia and J.R's first child was not born with a caul, neither was his sister. But Roman? Roman was. It takes a certain combination of genes for the desired outcome. Norman and Olivia are not particularly discreet either." Finn approaches the wall and studies it. She smiles at the understatement.

"What does that mean? Born with a caul?" She asks with the distant memory of Destiny's words in her mind.

"It means different things to different cultures... Some say it is the veil between this life and the afterlife. Other's say it means that the child will become a vampire after death. I have always been told that it meant the child only had four days to live."

"So Olivia would have been aware that... That Norman was what? A carrier of the gene?"

"She found out, yes."

"So so Norman's children would have also been..."

'It's highly likely," he replies casually.

"You know about Letha, don't you?"

"I know of her." He turns around to face her.

"You know how she died?" He nods. "Does it mean something to you? To this case?"

"Yes." Finn takes a seat next to her. "These murders are specifically aimed at children like that. I wasn't sure about it for a while. Your friend has done a very good job keeping that child private. A fake death record... A funeral... It's been there under their noses this whole time. Then I heard about your accident at school and I recognized your name. I thought that they had found out something before I did."

"They know about the baby?"

"No." He shakes his head. "I don't think so. Which is what makes this whole thing so fucking strange. When I realized they didn't know, I thought I made a mistake- that maybe you had just had an accident. It's too coincidental, though. It all is too suspicious."

"I need to tell Roman." She stands and walks to the door. Finn pushes it shut before she can leave.

"It's safer if you don't."

"How?"

"Because he needs to act normal. He needs to stop trying to find them. He has to stop drawing any attention to himself. Let me do my job."

"Why are you telling me? If it's safer to act normal then why are you having me help you?"

"Because I don't have a solution for you." His calm and prepared demeanor cracks. "You are already out in the open, there is no hiding you. If there are eyes on you, you are safe. At least until we figure out why you are a target."

"How much do you know about all of this genetic stuff?" She asks. "What causes who to be compatible?"

"A little. There isn't much information about it, for obvious reasons."

"Is it possible for someone to always have a child with a caul? Even if neither parent has one?"

"I wouldn't think so. Why?"

"Just curious about it," she replies casually. Finn steps aside from the door.

......

She almost misses it. The sight is so normal that shouldn't have drawn her attention. It's just a mother and her daughter at the park. She pushes her in the baby swing making excited noises to the child. One more glance to them has her stopping in her tracks.

Emma makes a sharp turn and stomps towards them. Miranda stops pushing the baby as soon as she notices. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" Emma storms forward, feeling emboldened by her conversation with both Finn and Olivia. Anyone could see her, anyone could be watching her. "Why is she here?"

"She needed out of that stuffy house." Miranda smiles proudly.

"Does Roman know you're here? That you're out with her?"

"No, but it's fine." Miranda shrugs her anger off. "Like I said," she says with an undertone and irritation. "She needed out of that stuffy house."

"So you just took her?" Miranda nods. "You are unbelievable," she laughs. Reaching out to grab the baby from the swing, Miranda tries to stop her. Unfortunately, the only thing she manages to do is scratch her skin with one of her tacky rings. Emma wipes the blood off onto her jeans and glares at her. "Leave," Emma growls.

Miranda walks away obediently. Emma watches until she's interrupted by the wails of a baby. She looks down at the child who is screaming and covered in tears. "Oh, fuck." She hadn't thought this far ahead. What is she supposed to do with this baby? There's no way she could walk all the way to Roman's with it.

Emma carries the child back to her house. It doesn't stop crying, and it doesn't help that she's never held a baby before. She awkwardly holds it near her shoulder with her broken arm aching the whole way. At some point during the journey, the baby falls asleep but not before leaving a wet spot on her shirt.

Once safely inside, she puts her down on the sofa and grabs her phone. "Hello," a voice answers her call. "This is the office of Roman Godfrey. How can I help you-"

"Put Roman on the phone."

"Mr. Godfrey is busy right-"

"Tell Roman to answer the goddamn phone." 

"Just one moment, please," the poor assistant says after a drawn-out silence. The phone plays annoying elevator music for what seems like hours.

"Do you know where your daughter is right now?" She asks as soon as the dial tone breaks.

"At home," Roman replies, clearly investing his attention elsewhere. 

"No, but thanks to me she  _ is _ at my home," Emma snaps. "Do you want to know where she was before?" Roman doesn't respond. "She was at the park."

"What?"

"Your little girlfriend took her to the park."

"She's not my-" Roman stops himself. "Where is Miranda now?"

"Fuck if I know." Emma looks at the baby on her couch, then peaks out the window. "I was walking by and there they were in broad daylight. Anyone could have seen them."

"It'll be okay," Roman says more to himself than her. "There's no chance someone would link it back to me. It's just a coincidence."

"Olivia would link it back to you." She sits on her couch where the baby stirs but doesn't wake. "She knows exactly who Miranda is, you know."

"Did she..."

"Come see me? Yes. Thanks for the heads up," Emma snickers. 

"I-"

"Look, I've got her here locked inside with me. Just come get her."

"Thank you," he says. "I mean it."

"Yep. Yep." She bites her bottom lip and hangs up the phone.

Roman excuses himself for the rest of the day and leaves the building quickly. He drives faster than normal which is almost impossible. He takes a deep breath before exiting his car. There was no way to prepare for the storm headed towards him. He deserved it.

Emma's already waiting at the door and opens it before he even knocks. The baby giggles and smiles upon seeing her father enter the room. Roman doesn't seem to notice and if he does he doesn't show it. "Thank you."

"It shouldn't have happened," Emma says sternly. 

"I know," he concedes.

"Do you understand how dangerous it was-"

"Considering Olivia raised me, I think I do."

"Olivia is the least of your concerns."

"What do you mean?" His face softens.

"If they find out about her, they'll kill her."

"Who?"

"The people- The mask people." Emma runs her fingers through her hair. She hadn't noticed how greasy and tangled it was until now. 

"What do you mean?"

"They're looking for kids like her."

"How would they- they... Like her?" He asks despite already knowing the answer. He just needs to hear it out loud for it to be real.

"Born with the caul.  _ Special _ ." Roman opens his mouth then shuts it. "They don't know about her. Not yet, anyway," she assures him.

"How do you know all of this?" He asks.

"You're not the only person who's been digging around." She glances around the room to avoid looking at him.

"This could have helped me and Peter."

"No," she says quickly. "You can't go after them. You need to lay low. Keep her hidden. They're being taken care of-"

"By who?" He asks sharply.

"I don't think I can say."

"Tell me," he says and she feels compelled to do so.

"His name is Finn Stewart. He's a detective with the Office of Public Health Preparedness and Response."

"And he told you all of this?" Emma nods. "Are you sure they don't know about her."

"We're pretty sure." He quirks his head at the use of  _ we  _ but shakes it off. "That's why you have to leave it alone. Just keep your child safe and in your house," she emphasizes then adds, "I probably won't be there the next time Miranda takes her for an afternoon stroll."

"I told her she had to stay in the house."

"How did that work out for you?" She chuckles bitterly.

"She doesn't understand the actual danger. She just doesn't know."

"What's your plan, Roman?" Emma asks and crosses her arms. "You can't hide it forever, not if she's living with you. Eventually, she's going to find out."

"I don't have a plan," he admits. "This isn't how I expected things to be." 

"She's going to get older, you know. You're going to stay young but she's going to get older."

"I don't want to think about staying young," he says and looks at the ground. 

"You need to if you're seriously thinking-"

"You're going to die one day," he interrupts her quietly. "You're going to get older and die. Peter's going to live longer but not as long as me. He'll die."

"You have to think about it sooner or later," Emma reminds him. Looking over, the baby has fallen back asleep. She turns back to Roman. "Do you have a car seat?" He doesn't answer. "You can't drive a baby around without a car seat."

"I'll drive really slow."

"Roman."

"What do you want me to do?" He asks helplessly.

"Just- just get her back without anyone seeing her."

"That's the plan." He flashes a falsely confident smile. "Look- I'm sorry for not telling you..."

"I really shouldn't have expected you to tell me."

"Em, I'm trying to apologize about it-"

"Why is it so hard for you to be honest with me, Roman?" She bites down hard onto her bottom lip. 

"Because it's always things that I wish would go away before I had to."

"Is there anything else you're not telling me?" Roman's mind flashes the basement of the white tower. The bright room is filled with tanks and jars. He nods. "You won't tell me, will you?" He doesn't answer. He can feel her disappointed eyes on him before she turns to escape upstairs. He can show himself out while she hides away from further confrontation. 

A gloved hand grabs onto her wrist stopping her from moving further. "I am completely fucking lost and alone," Roman admits. "I don't know what I'm doing. I didn't want this, any of it. I don't want to have a kid. I'm nineteen for fuck's sake," he laughs a bit manically. Emma turns her head slowly to look at him. He's a dark shade of red and his hair has quickly become distressed. "It just happened to me. I'm just figuring it out day by day... I don't want to be this thing... this parasite anymore."

"I know," she barely croaks out. "But no one made you do it alone, that was your choice."

"Can you blame me?" He asks. "I didn't want to have to talk about it. God, I wish I could forget it but I can't." Emma tries to retain a neutral reaction to what he is saying. "I think about it every day, you know? I'm the reason she's dead."

"You know that's not true-" Emma starts.

"It is, though. And here I am feeling sorry for myself when Letha's dead... I just wanted to ignore it and maybe it would go away. When I finally came to see you things felt so normal, even if it was only for a little while. That was how I wanted my life to be, how it was supposed to be-"

"But that's not how it is."

"I want to get better at accepting that."  It had been so long since they'd be kind to each other. Civility was demanded, but kindness was a luxury. Neither is sure who initiates it, but a hug is formed in the midst of the tension. She likes the familiar feeling and familiar warmth. Then there's the familiar want. 

Emma is a big enough woman to admit she initiates what comes next. It's just a soft, friendly peck at first. It only adds wood to the fire and awakens the buried body. Had she been horny and unaware or was this new?  She keeps meaning to stop herself but never does.  _ Miranda _ her mind screams at her.  _ He lied to you about her _ . She doesn't care.  Emma walks upstairs, not bothering to ask him to follow. He will. He always will. 

Time is limited. The chances of the sleeping child awakening increases by the minute. 

Laying back against the headboard, she bites her already dry lip and feels a little sting. The taste of blood is sweet between the two of them. Roman is so consumed by the moment that he fails to see that she's slipped off somewhere else. 

Emma can see it clear as day. It's as if her own blood had dripped into a glass of water. It's red smoke.

She'd been here before, that much she's sure of. Opening her eyes, her instinct is confirmed. Her room is almost the same as it is now. The only thing different is her. She's in her prom dress and is unable to move. Her body is numb and heavy. 

The sound of footsteps trailing up the stairs awakens some nerves in her and she involuntarily sits up. She has been here before. In a matter of seconds, Roman will enter the room and try and open a bottle of champagne. He'll mess it up and spill it all on her carpet.

Emma doesn't want to be here anymore. The sight of Roman looking significantly younger pulls at her heart. She hadn't realized how much he had aged. He follows her memory down to every detail. The spill, the coke, the cum. Everything is the same.

She desperately wants to reach out and speak to him, but her lips only release the words she's said before. It's just a memory.

The world becomes disorienting as if someone's tapping on a window.

"Are you okay?" He asks concerned. "You zoned out for a minute."

"Never better."

......

Roman waits in the kitchen for any sign of Miranda's return. It's late into the night before headlights shine into the windows. He doesn't look up from the counter as the keypad unlocks the door. A light cool breeze enters the room but the door clicks shut quickly, ending it. 

She makes a straight path to go upstairs without even looking at Roman. He looks after her curiously before standing and following. He finds her sitting in the baby's room with one of her breasts free from her shirt. The baby is in her lap but not interested.

"Where did you go?" He asks.

"I left," Miranda answers without looking up.

"Yes, but where did you go."

"I left," she lets out a light laugh.

"Tell me where were you." He holds her face straight to his. The warm trickle of blood coming from his nose is familiar by now.

"I sat in my car."

"Why?"

"She told me to leave, so I did. When I came back I came here." She doesn't notice the baby crying in her arms. Roman's eyes threaten to bulge in confusion and concern but he stays calm. "I saw the strangest thing while I was gone. There was a little boy playing with toys in his room, then someone killed him."

"What?" Roman whispers.

"Someone in a masked killed him." Miranda laughs again.

Roman scratches at his head nervously. Something is so wrong. This wasn't like her at all. This wasn't like any human. This was wrong. Miranda seemed so hollow and lost. Something was terribly wrong.

Before he is able to make any moves Anna pushes her way into the room. She takes the wailing child from Miranda's arms and bounces her lightly. Roman can feel the older woman's glare darting between him and his guest. Miranda's face falls quickly and she looks exhausted. "I'm going to bed."

Roman leaves after she does. He's relieved to see her go into her own room instead of his. Once safely behind his locked door, he calls Peter to make a plan. 

......

Peter's over in a dangerously quick time. Roman wants to lecture him on driving so fast, but he has no room to talk. Instead, he offers him some coffee and a seat at the kitchen bar. Roman vaguely explains was Miranda said to him but Peter looks confused.

"So you're telling me," Peter pauses to take a sip of his coffee. "She just came home talking all sorts of nonsense." Roman wants to comment on Peter's use of  _ home  _ but doesn't see a point. There are bigger fish to fry.

"Well, that's where it's complicated. I asked her where she went and she just kept saying 'she told me to leave, so I left.' I don't know what that means."

"And she just left?"

"She said she went to her car and left. Then said she saw those things."

"Like physically? Like actually saw them with her eyes?" Roman puts up his arms, not knowing the answer.

"I don't know. It didn't sound like she actually went anywhere."

"Maybe she fell asleep and dreamt it?"

"And that's leaving?" Roman asks.

"She left her mind," Peter replies.

"I don't get it. Why would- what would-" Roman struggles to convey his thoughts. "How did that interaction..."

"Well, after all the stuff at the house," Peter says slowly. "Destiny freaked out. Maybe Emma's teaching herself some psychokinesis. When she said leave Miranda literally left her own mind."

"That's not like her." Roman shakes his head. "She's never been interested in that stuff."

"Maybe it was on accident," he suggests.

"Is that possible?" Peter shrugs as an answer.

"We need to see if Miranda remembers anything else from her dream," he finally says. "If this is an actual dream connected to ours we can find them."

......

The two boys wait up until mid-morning when Miranda awake. She comes downstairs peppy as ever. It's as if nothing happened. "Hi, boys," she greets them on her way to the kitchen.

"Did you sleep well?" Roman asks carefully.

"I'm not tired, but I had the weirdest dream." Miranda opens the fridge and drinks orange juice straight from the bottle."

"What did you dream?" Peter asks once the bottle is returned.

"I dreamed about this little boy being followed by someone in a mask," she says. "I don't know what he wanted, but it freaked me out."

"What was the boy like?" Roman asks.

"Just a little boy," she quirks her head. "Maybe 7 or 8. He was wearing a shirt with the devil on it and kept yelling 'hot, hot, hot.' It really freaked me out. I have to stop snacking at night." Miranda walks away without a lingering thought on the dream.

"Yeah," Peter laughs awkwardly in an attempt to seem normal.

"Anyway, what are the two of you up to today?"

"Just some errands. Boy stuff," Roman quickly answers with a look to Peter.

......

Emma wakes up later and later every day she is home. She typically doesn't even get out of bed until 11:00. Today is no exception. She eats her late breakfast, catches up on her Instagram feed, then plops herself onto the couch. The day fades away only to be interrupted by the occasional sound of her phone buzzing.

Like answering the Bat Call, she always comes to Roman's when called. The three of them hide out in the back of the kitchen and speak in hushed voices. Miranda has been upstairs since that morning, claiming she had a headache, but secrecy was still a priority. 

"I don't know what she's talking about," Emma shrugs. Roman had tried to convey just how weird the conversation last night had been. It's hard for her to imagine Miranda being weirder than she already way. "I literally just said 'leave.' Then, she left. Whatever she did after that is her own issue."

"Did you see where she went?" Roman asks.

"No," Emma quips with annoyance. "Sorry, I was a bit busy trying to make sure the baby was safe."

"I know," Roman assures her peacefully. "I'm just trying to figure it out."

"She probably went and smoked crack or something," Emma says. "Look, you should disregard whatever she's saying. Who knows what's going on in that mind of hers."

"Emma-" Peter's defense of Miranda is interrupted with a subtle head shake from Roman. "We have to take leads where we get them. This is the clearest description we've had yet. She actually saw the kid."

"She saw a kid. You don't know who it was." Emma turns to Roman. "I told you yesterday to let it go-"

"Oh, are you guys about to leave?" Miranda's voice echoes down the stairs.

"Yeah," Peter says to her. She goes to the fridge to grab a water and takes a long drink.

"I thought this was a boys-only thing." She eyes Emma.

"It is," Roman says quickly. "Emma has work to do and her wifi is down. Isn't that right?"

"Yeah," Emma says without a beat but with a heavy suspicion in her voice. "That's right..."

"When will you be back?" Miranda asks the two boys.

"We'll be back tonight." Peter looks at Roman for backup.

"Roman," Emma interrupts awkwardly. "A word please." Roman follows behind her to the pantry. Emma closes the door behind them then turns to face him. "You're not leaving me here!"

"Yes. Yes, I am," he replies in a hushed voice. 

"No." She shakes her head wildly. "I told you to leave it alone. Don't you remember that?"

"I can't ignore it. This kid is going to get killed."

"If you don't leave it alone your kid is going to be killed." She pokes at his chest.

"No, she's not," Roman protests. "She's safe here."

"Clearly she isn't," Emma shoots.

"That's why you're here."

"To keep an eye on her?" Emma asks and he nods. "If you don't trust her," Emma hisses. "Make her leave."

"Em, she's dreaming things too. What if it's important?"

"What if she gets us all killed?" She asks with a break in her harsh tone. "I've been hurt already." She nods to her arm. "I'm not getting killed because you want to keep fucking her."

"I'm not going to let that happen," he insists. "These dreams, the baby, something's connecting it all. It's better to keep an eye on her than to let her leave."

"I want to go with you," Emma goes back to her original gripe.

"You can't protect yourself. You're not like me and Peter."

"Roman, this is America. Get me a gun and call it a day." Roman laughs gently and places a hand on her shoulder. 

"I don't trust you to not shoot me with that gun."

"Good." 

Emma watches from the window as they leave from the driveway. she tries to watch TV to pass the time but can't commit her attention to it. The only relief is that Miranda has retreated upstairs and away from her.

Even if they were left alone Emma's not sure what she would have to say to the girl. The only real issue she had causes her was the incident with the baby the day before. Even that didn't exactly pertain to Emma. It's not like Miranda herself had caused any of this, Emma's level headed enough to know that. She hadn't caused the rift between the two friends. 

But, chaos seemed to surround her and would only continue to infect their lives.

......

Roman storms in first. Emma stands to greet him but her jaw drops at the sight of his face. There is a large patch of dried blood on his face with a twin stain on his shirt. His eyes are filled with anger. "What's going-" she tries to ask but is backed against the wall before she can finish. "What the fuck, Roman?" 

"You were in on it the whole time, weren't you?" He accuses, putting both his hands to the wall and blocking her exit.

"Calm down," she tells him with a harsh push. "What are you talking about?"

"You've known about them this whole time!"

"Who? Who?" She pushes at him again.

"The mask, the people-" His voice grows louder only to be cut off but the sharp sound of a slap to face.

"Fuck you,"

Roman responds by grabbing her shoulders. "I saw you- the photo," he rambles with a cracking voice. "You lied to me. Did you tell them about the baby?" She feels sympathetic to the pain in his voice, but he's hurting her. "You're one of them!"

"Roman, stop!" He doesn't. She finally shimmies free of his hold and pushes him back again."I don't know what the fuck you're talking about. I didn't tell anyone anything." His words have her mind wandering to Finn and all that he knew. She had told him a lot, but he wouldn't lie about who he was. Why would he? She wiggles down to the floor hoping to free herself of his grasp but he follows her down. One hand slides, pressing against her throat hard enough to scare her.

"I know you did! She had a photo of you together," Roman accuses again. His anger is subsiding into desperation and sadness.

"Who is she?"

"The girl we found," Roman growls. He let's go with one hand to reach into his pocket. He pulls up a folded photo and hands it to her. She unfolds it and almost laughs at him. It's a photo from the semester before at a party. It's cropped to look like it's only Emma and Liza in the photo.

"That's Liza," she says letting out a pathetic laugh. "The one that walked with me that night." His hands loosen immediately but don't let go. "Remember?"

"You swear?"

"Why would I do that?" She asks. "Why would I put myself on the line like that?" Her voice raises. "They're after me too, you know! I'm a fucking incubation tank for kids like her! Remember that the next time you try to accuse me of that. This is my life on the line too."

Both she and Roman let those words sink in. He hadn't thought of it that way and she hadn't placed it together until now. "Fuck," he swears. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just- I'm scared."

"Why don't you trust me?"

"I don't trust anyone anymore," he whispers. "Forget about it. This didn't happen," he says and she nods in return. "You're tired. You want to take a nap."

......

"What happened?" Emma asks rubbing her eyes in the darkness. A small, dull lamp illuminates part of Roman's room, but not much.

"You fell asleep before we got back so I moved you up here." He stands from the bed and turns to face her.

"Oh," she says. "How did it go?"

"The kid's fine," he says and she feels instant relief. "I'm worried about Peter."

"What about him?"

"He's turning a lot."

"Did he today?" Roman nods. "That's what happened to Christina."

"I couldn't stop him. They were attacking and he changed so quick..."

"Does this mean we have to have a werewolf intervention?" She says without hearing how ridiculous she sounds.

"I have to do something," Roman sighs. "We found out some useful stuff today." Emma perks up from her pillow. "Everything you said was right. The caul... They're killing the kids young before they become, y'know."

"Mr. Godfrey," a feeble yet panicked voice says. "I'm sorry to interrupt but the child has gone missing."

"Missing?" Roman asks. 

"So has Ms. Cates. Neither are here." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Thank you all for reading! I know I say this every chapter but I really do mean it. So many of you stuck around after the first book and that means so so much to me.
> 
> As always, please feel free to leave comments or criticism. I'm always worried I'm taking things too far.
> 
> Much love!
> 
> PS: I'd like to apologize if anyone wanted smut. I can't bring myself to make everyone suffer through my terrible writing.  
Chapter title is from Honest by the neighborhood. 10/10 song btw


	24. Mistaken

_where all things are made right_  
_where there is salvation for all_  
_where there is unity_  
_where there is Trinity_  
_where there is real truth_  
_where there is divine virtue_

.....

Roman exits his room and runs down the hall to the baby's room. He frantically unlocks it and looks around, needing to see it himself. Emma struggles to follow behind him, but he flies from room to room as if they might be hiding. "Where's Peter?" She calls out after him.

Roman doesn't answer, but heads to the stairs. Peter's passed out on the couch with his dirty clothes still on. He has a light sheen of sweat and dirt still glazed over him. Roman grabs at his ankle to wake him. "Hm?" He groans.

"Did you see Miranda leave?" Roman asks before Peter's eyes are even open. "Did you see Miranda?"

"Good morning to you too." His eyes peak open.

"The baby's gone, she's gone too. Did you see her?"

"What?" He sits up immediately. "What do you mean they're gone?"

"I mean they're not here," he says derisively. 

"Where did they go?"

"That's what I'm asking you!"

"Shit, I don't know. Look at me." Peter motions to himself. "I don't even remember getting here."

"Fuck!" Roman yells then kicks at the coffee table.

"I'm sure they're fine," Emma says with some false positivity. "She probably took her to the park again."

Roman doesn't seem to hear her and rushes for his coat. Peter remains seated, still processing everything that has been said. Before she can ask him what his plan is, he's out the door. Emma rushes after him, struggling to find her pair of shoes. 

A familiar voice outside of the door catches her ear, but Peter's phone rings over it.

_ "You dumb fucks, better get the fuck over here, right fucking now." _

.....

Emma lingers by the wall at Destiny's apartment. She crosses her arms and looks around uncomfortably. Roman is doing his best to explain everything to Miranda. It's a lot, she knows that first hand. But something that had seemed sacred between the three of them was destroyed. Everybody's cards were on the table now.

Miranda grips the baby closer and closer as more revelations occur. Tighter, and tighter, and tighter. "So, you eat blood?" Emma rolls her eyes.

"Not eat," Roman defends himself a bit. "It's more of a feeding."

"And you maul people to death?" She looks to Peter.

"No, I don't actually," Peter answers condescendingly. "I was defending myself. And what neither of you know is that Roman hates the way he is. He's getting treatments..." 

He trails off. In the silence, a whimper from the baby echoes in all of their ears. Roman, seemingly having some instincts, reaches forward. Destiny steps closer with her knife pointed out to him. "You stay away from that baby!" Roman puts his hands up.

"Excuse me?" He asks, astonished.

"You killed to people," Destiny says. "Why?"

"They were from the dreams," Peter explains.

"I knew it!" Destiny waves the knife around.

"Will you put down the knife?" Peter asks. "You're not going to stab us."

"Don't push it," she says with one last point.

"Miranda." Roman looks to her. "You had the dream with the boy, the baseball chants. The guy with the mask. Tell her."

"I had the dreams," Miranda says. "But that doesn't explain you killing people. And then you two fighting!" She says. Emma doesn't remember Peter and Roman fighting, but she swears Miranda sends her a glance.

"Kill or be killed," Peter says. "They've already killed. Des, you know that. I know you know I'm telling the truth."

"I'm not doubting your honesty," Destiny snickers. "I'm doubting your sanity! Going after these guys? You're going to get yourself killed!"

"We've been doing pretty good so far!" He replies. 

"Are they really killing these kids?" Miranda asks.

"Six so far," Roman answers. "Seven, now eight, attempts."

"So far," Peter adds.

"Who are they? Why are we having the same dreams?"

"I don't know," Roman tells the half-lie. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you earlier."

"But," Peter follows. "We're getting these dreams for a reason."

"You're not going to give this up, are you?" Destiny asks, disappointed.

"We can't."

"Then you're an idiot. And so am I."

"You're going to help?" Peter perks up.

"I don't think I have any other choice," she grumbles. Peter races over to her to give her a tight hug that she does not return. When he lets go she keeps walking past him and to her room.

"What about her?" Miranda nods to the baby. "Are they after her?"

"Probably," Roman admits. "That's why you can't leave with her."

"I knew something was going to happen to her," Miranda says with a wavering voice. "She needs to be safe. She belongs with me."

"Okay," Roman says with a breath. He sounds too calm about the whole thing. He should be furious, and he is. Emma can see the strain on his face from holding back his anger. "The baby is safest in her room."

"I thought... We should give her a name," Miranda suggests.

"Yeah?" Peter asks.

"I was thinking Rosemary."

"Rosemary?" Emma breaks her silence with a disgusted face. "It's a baby, not an 80-year-old woman."

"Well," Miranda quips. 

_ Don't say it _ , Emma thinks to herself.  _ Don't you fucking say it. _

"It is my grandmother's name." She fucking said it.

"We're not naming her after some strangers grandmother," she laughs back at her.

"I'm not some-"

"Roman," Emma interrupts her. "What would you like her name to be?" Roman looks confused and uncomfortable from her questions. "Nadia," she decides for him. "That's a nice, unique name."

"I think-" Miranda tries again.

"I like Nadia," Peter agrees in a desperate attempt to lighten the pressure. "Letha would like it. It's good, right Roman?"

"Hm?" He looks up. "Oh, yeah. It's good."

"Well, what are we going to do? What-" While Miranda rambles on about the dangers, Emma slips away and to Destiny's room.

Destiny is downing a drink and flipping through an old book. Emma quietly pushes the door shut, with only the click giving her away. "Hey?" Destiny turns to face her.

"What the fuck?" She shouts in a whisper. "You're siding with her now?"

"I'm not siding with anyone."

"You were just pointing a knife at your cousin," Emma shoots back. "Do you trust her more than you trust Peter?"

"No, but Peter is losing his goddamn mind over these dreams."

"You know he's not lying."

"That doesn't mean I want him involved. And now, it turns out, there is an innocent child involved," Destiny explains calmly.

"It's not your child!"

"It's not yours either. And it'd be in your best interest to remember that," she says with a swift turn. Book still in hand she enters the living room and interrupts whatever conversation had been going on. She takes a seat next to Roman who looks at her for a solution. "You guys are going to have to think about your strongest visions."

"So, um," Roman says awkwardly. "The dreams, um, it was clearest when we were with Miranda." Emma's lips curl down involuntarily and she fights back a gag. 

She wasn't one to shame people for their sexual activities. She hadn't been exactly vanilla herself, but  _ Jesus fucking Christ.  _ The idea of three of them together makes her sick. Peter's interest in her was more shocking than Roman's was. For fuck's sake, Peter had dated Letha.

"What do you want me to do?" Miranda's voice breaks up the commotion. "I'm freaking out here!"

"Well," Destiny chuckles. "It's about to get a lot freakier. So, if you want out now's your chance." Emma holds her breath, hoping she'll get up and walk out. She doesn't. Instead, Roman makes a plea for her to stay.

_ "Please. We need you." _

"Come on," Destiny says and stands. 

"What? The bathtub again?" Peter asks.

"Yeah, but this time you're going to drown  _ me _ ." She smiles cheekily.

"This time?" Miranda asks quietly. 

Destiny fills her tub up with water as Peter and Roman go to get ice. Emma lingers on the porch, unwilling to sit alone with either of the remaining women. Miranda had been walking around the apartment bouncing the baby- Nadia- in an attempt to put her to sleep. It made Emma's skin crawl.

When the boys return, she helps them unload the bags of ice into the bathroom. The small room smells like various essential oils and is only lit by a couple of candles. Miranda follows behind them and watches as the ice piles up in the water. "Have you done this before?"

"Not exactly," Destiny clicks her tongue. "I've read about it."

"You've about it?" She exasperates. "We're talking about drowning, right?"

"Yes, we're talking about drowning," Destiny sighs. "I know lot's about drowning, just not this spell in particular."

"You've drowned before? Like to death?" Miranda asks sarcastically.

"No, but people drown all the time. Emma's drowned before-"

"Twice," Emma interjects.

"Look at her, she's fine."

"I'm not good at much, but I'm pretty hard to kill," Emma says in some demented form of bragging.

"Now, come one," Destiny waves the forward. "Before I change my mind about helping. Kneeling in front of the tub she takes a deep breath. "Give me what it is that touched them." Peter leans forward and hands her a pocket knife with dried blood on it. She drops it into the tub.

"It's about electrical impulses," she continues. "You cannot let go this time." She gives Roman a look. "Seriously. The circuit cannot be broken. No matter what, no matter what I try to do, do not let go. Promise me?"

"Yeah," Roman says.

"Peter?" She asks. He nods slowly. "Okay."

Destiny places her hands on the edge of the tub. Peter holds on to her first, his face looks ill. Roman joins, then Miranda. Emma approaches and holds her right shoulder. "Not you," Destiny says to her. "This isn't for you."

.....

Emma sits on the couch next to the baby. She won't admit it to herself, but she feels left out. When had her place been taken? From the other side of the door, she can hear the water splashing around and the panicked voice of Miranda. She can almost feel the water filling her own lungs and the pain she couldn't place. She thinks about it over and over again, desperately trying to remember what she felt.

She hadn't thought about it until now. The last moments she remembered were filled with pain then there was nothing. There was nothing.

Emma feels relief wash over her when they emerge from the bathroom. Destiny has a towel wrapped around her and Peter walks with her to the loveseat. Roman sits on the coffee table in front of her, waiting for the revelation to be announced.

"They're after her," Destiny says and points to the baby. 

"We know," Roman says.

"No, her in particular. They believe she is the abomination they've been waiting for. When she is killed God will return to Earth. The apocalypse," she stops to cough. "That's why they're killing all these children. The ones with the- the membrane-"

"The caul," Roman says.

"Yes, the caul. They didn't know what child they were looking for, so they were taking out any possible suspects."

"Shit," Peter swears.

"I'm sorry," Destiny says. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Roman asks.

"I think they know now. He sensed me, saw me, knew-" She struggles to keep her train of thought. "He knows it's her. They know now."

.....

The car ride back to Roman's was a nightmare. Peter had stayed behind to take care of Destiny, leaving the three adults alone for the trip. Miranda sits in the middle with Nadia giggling on her lap. She was so unaware of the danger she was in. 

Once inside, Roman takes the baby from Miranda's arms and makes a straight-line for the staircase. Miranda seems to try and follow until he sends her a glare. She stands back and goes to the kitchen. Emma walks towards the stairs but pauses. Making a quick turn, she walks closer to the other woman.

"Why are you so fucking entitled?" Miranda attempts to respond but nothing comes out. "You think because he fucked you you're entitled to his house? To his life? To  _ our _ life?" She doesn't answer and Emma laughs. "Look, he might think you're  _ pretty _ ," she throws at her patronizingly. "He thinks you're  _ fun.  _ And for some freak reason, you lactate, so he let you stay. Now let me emphasize the  _ let  _ you aspect of that. You have no claim to anything here. Look around you, you see this house?" She gestures to the surroundings. "The one you've been squatting in? It's Roman's, not yours. That baby? Roman's, not yours," out of breath, Emma turns to leave. "Just because she sucks on your tits doesn't mean she belongs to you. If that were true, I would have had Roman kill you already."

"Don't blame me for your relationship issues!"Turns back around.

"And one last thing," she walks slowly towards the sitting girl. "If I ever, and I mean  _ ever,  _ hear you say that baby belongs with you again I will put you in the fucking ground." And for the first time, she means it.

.....

Emma walks away from Miranda with a weight lifted off her back. She wonders if this is the irritability the doctor had warned her about after the accident. However, that last year and a half of her life had been filled with a roller coaster of joy and anger. Who's to say what caused the most recent episode. 

She has desperately wished for things to return to normal. The very concept has feathered away. What had been normal before seemed so goddamn weird now. It only grew stranger with each passing day. 

She goes upstairs and finds Roman sitting on his bed. He's already changed into pajamas and has a glass of whiskey in his hand. Her footsteps on the wood alert him of her appearance. Her head hurts from the events of the day and she's already tired. "You're getting treatments?" She asks after shutting the door.

"Not yet," Roman says. "I don't know, maybe."

"What would that entail?"

"I don't know. Pryce thinks he has a cure."

"What if it doesn't work?"

"It has to," he whispers. "I don't want to be like this. I feel like shit."

"Are you  _ eating _ enough blood?" She says with a smile. Roman chuckles a little bit.

"Yeah, I've been eating plenty of blood. I took my fork and knife and dug right in," he jokes.

"Where do you..." Emma licks her dry lips uncomfortably before continuing. "Who do you-"

"Where do I get blood from?" She nods. "The tower. Pryce made this mixture. It's blood but not really."

"And it works?"

"Sort of." He shrugs. "It is pretty chunky so I guess I  _ do _ eat some of it."

"Yummy." She takes a seat next to him. 

"How are you feeling?" He asks.

"Fine?" She responds. "A little tired, but fine."

"I meant with your brain injury, but I've clearly found my answer," he laughs as she punches his arm.

"I'm fine," she reiterates before softening. "My head hurts most of the time," she admits. "And I sleep a lot, and sometimes I can't hold my fork steady. But mostly I'm tired."

They talk off and on with the TV on in the background. Emma silently wonders what Miranda had done after she left her downstairs, but shakes it off. She shouldn't care so much. As the night goes on, they slowly slide closer and closer towards the headboard. Then, with heavy eyelids, to the pillow. 

Sometime later, she wakes up with a stale taste in her mouth. The bright lights of his bathroom wake her up more than she'd like, but still, she stumbles to the counter. While wishing mouth wash around, the door opens and Roman enters. His eyes are barely open as he goes over to the toilet to pee. 

She spits out her mouth wash and only acknowledges him when he comes to wash his hands. Suddenly warmer than she was when she fell asleep, she struggles to take her hoodie off. With one sleeve stuck on the cast and her face blocked, she almost gives up. 

"When do you get your cast off?" He asks. Roman's still semi-wet hands pull at the sleeve and frees her.

"Two weeks," she says once her head is free from the hoodie. "What happened to my neck?" She examines herself in the mirror. It's littered with fresh bruises that she doesn't remember getting. She runs through the day before but comes up blank.

"Don't worry about it."

Roman falls back asleep quickly but Emma's not so lucky. The turns and turns, covered in a thin layer of cold sweat and a headache. She's desperate for sleep and for some relief to a pain she can't place. She pouts with a shudder running through her ribs. "I've been seeing things," she admits to the silent room. "And I don't know what they are." She rolls over to face Roman for confirmation that he's asleep. He is, and even if he wasn't what could he possibly do to solve the mystery?

.

Roman wakes up with the sun. He rushes to Nadia's room to make sure she's still there. It takes him a couple tries to get in, having changed the code for the lock the night before. Inside, he sees her standing in her crib as if she'd been anticipating him.

He felt some feelings of love towards the infant, even if he didn't know it. At the end of the day, she was the only part of Letha remaining. Roman, however, didn't feel like a father. Maybe it's because he isn't able to admit that he is. Only two people know the truth and it would have to stay that way. Peter could never know. He wouldn't understand.

The two of them have barely spoken about Letha. Roman knew Peter loved her, but he didn't want to talk about it. At the end of the day she had been his best friend, his confidant, and the closest thing to a first love he had had. Sure, he had always had Emma around, but Letha was so different from everyone else he knew.

Letha was gentle but strong. She didn't let anyone push her around. 

Roman stops himself before going to deep into his memories. Anna arrives just as he's leaving and a sour look on her face. The day before had been stressful and infuriating. She thought he was a fool, he could feel it radiating off of her.

In his room, Emma is still in deep sleep. Her chest rises and falls without rhythm and the smallest snore emerges from time to time. Over the birds chirping in the morning light and the snores, he can hear her heartbeat. The sound of blood pumping through veins makes his mouth water.

It would be so easy to move on his instincts. It's difficult to hold back from the temptation. All it would take is a small cut and a simple command to forget. It's wrong, but goddamn he's starving for something real. 

The thought of returning to the pink sludge in his basement fridge makes his stomach turn. It was comparable to drinking a diet soda. It is her bastardized blood that he's been consuming, after all. 

He sits at the foot of the bed, letting himself listen closer. The sound only teases him more, but he can't stop himself from needing to be teased. It would be so easy. All he had to do was make her forget.

Before he can get closer, she stirs softly and he remembers the bruises he's left on her neck. He tries to not linger on the things he's made people forget, it was always for their well being. Some things would only hurt them to remember. He was doing them a favor.

"Can you take me home?" She mumbles, still half asleep.

"Why don't you just take a car?" He offers, sitting up against a pillow.

.....

Emma does take a car to go home. She's not sure why she wanted to leave so quickly, but she did. Something in the pit of her stomach alerted her of danger and she needed to get away. She gets home a few minutes before her mother does. The older woman finds her daughter in the kitchen eating cereal in silence.

"What are you doing up so early?" She asks and sets down her purse.

"Couldn't sleep well," Emma says and tries to gather some cornflakes on her spoon.

"I see you have the car," Kay says. "You and Roman on good terms again?"

"I guess." Emma finally takes a bite.

"I uh-" Kay hesitates. "I heard he's got some girl staying with him. Lena said she met her down at Giants Grocery."

"Yeah." Emma nods. Kay lingers for a moment, hoping to get a reaction from her daughter. A small sign of how she felt, but she gives nothing.

"Well, I'm going to go to sleep for a little while. You should do the same." Emma doesn't respond. 

She stays downstairs on the couch for a while. Finally moving upstairs, she changes out of her jeans and into pajamas. Her head hurts and she's tired, but can't bring herself to sleep. Without an explanation for why she stands from her bed and leaves her room. Her mother's room is almost entirely black. Blackout curtains were a necessity for third shift workers. In the darkness and with the familiar feeling of the old springs pushing into her back, she drifts off.

.....

_ Meet me in my room. _

_ Too many people could hear us in public. _

Emma gets Finn's text while she's cleaning up after dinner. When she had woken up earlier she had planned on having a normal day. She reads and walks Sydney home from school and to Girl Scouts. Then, she heads home to cook dinner. It seems, however, that Finn wants to ruin that return normalcy. 

When she parks the car in the motel parking lot, she can see his eyes poking out of his blinds. He opens the door quickly and ushers her in, looking paranoid. "Your friends have been a big pain in my ass, y'know?" He says without a greeting. 

"Same," she remarks.

"What happened to your neck?" Finn asks after taking a look at her. 

"It doesn't matter." Emma pushes is off. Over the couple of months they'd known each other they'd become almost friends, but this was a business meeting. Besides, it really didn't matter.

"Is it like a sex thing?" He asks and approaches her. Her jaw drops in disgust. "No judgment at all. Just concerned."

"No it's not _ like a sex thing _ ," she mocks him. "Now, what am I here for."

"Roman and Peter killed some people, and the sheriff found out." Emma shrugs at him. Chasseur's sister killed people all the time, why was this different? "So now I have the sheriff on my ass."

"Why is he on your ass? Shouldn't it be on them?"

"I'm the professional here, not Roman and Peter." Finn crosses his arms. "It's part of my job to make sure this doesn't become a widely known thing. The last thing we need is the media and law enforcement digging into murders."

"Why not? Maybe they could help?"

"The murders here are Roman and Peter. Remember that the other murders look like accidents. We won't be able to convince anyone otherwise."

"You work for the government," Emma points out. 

"The government can barely keep itself open," Finn explains. "I've been traveling for almost a year now trying to track these guys down. I am so close to getting them, and I won't let them fuck that up."

"I get where you're coming from," Emma says calmly. "But, they're after Roman's kid. He's not going to just give it up."

"They don't know-"

"They know now," she stops him. "They know about her now."

"And you're just wandering around by yourself?" He scrutinizes.

"They want her, not me."

"You think they won't take out anyone else on their way? If anything, they're more emboldened than ever. They know you know where she is. Of course, they've known! They've known all along..." He rants on. "That's why they've been circling in. They're just hunting for sport until they think they're strong enough, stoking the fire for him... I'm so stupid! That's why they came after you."

"No, it's not," she says quietly. "They know about me, about what I am."

"What you are?"

"I'm cursed," she says, feeling foolish. Cursed? Really? That's how she was going to describe it. "Somehow, they know what's going to happen to me. I don't know how, but they do."

"What's going to happen to you?"

"I know my fates," she mumbles. "Y'know. The thing with the fairies."

"The Ursitory?" She nods. "What are they?"

"I will spare two lives, but it won't matter." She laughs at the silliness of it all. "I'm going to die under a full moon, and any child that I have will be born with a caul."

"There's no way for them to know that," Finn says perplexed. "You're not even supposed to know that."

"They do." Emma looks down then back up to him. Finn thinks for a moment, then turns. He looks over the mess of photo's a string on the wall then walks to his desk. He digs through papers haphazardly, throwing them when they aren't the desired one. Finally, he stops and looks one over.

"They don't know," he assures her. "Your accident was during a waxing crescent, not a full moon. They wouldn't have tried if they knew they would fail."

"Yeah?" She slowly approaches.

"If I had to guess, you were a precaution. They probably knew of your  _ friendship  _ with Roman and decided to cut the snake off at the head."

"Oh," Emma gasps. She remembers all the weird questions Liza had asked. How had she not seen it before?

"If they kill her the world won't end. Then, they'll just assume she wasn't the one," Finn says. "They'll just keep going."

"Until we stop them." He nods. "What do I do until then?"

"Find a way to protect yourself." Emma looks down and tries to imagine what that could entail. A weapon, maybe?

"I'll talk to Roman and Peter again," she says. "I'll tell them they have to lay low."

"Thank you," Finn says with relief.

"I'll tell them a professional is handling it." Emma smirks at him. Heading to the door, she feels more worried than she did this morning. She hadn't been sure that was possible.

"I know we're being professionals," he says before she opens the door. She turns her head to look back at him. "And it's not really my thing." He puts a hand to his neck. "But if you're ever interested..." He trails off before turning around to face his desk.

"Okay," she responds and he stops right in his tracks.

"Okay?"

"Sure."

He fucks like a guy who's been mostly relying on porn. He's been on the road for the better part of the year, so it's probably true. If they hadn't already been in his hotel room she might have changed her mind. It's only a couple of steps until they're on the bed with the ugly comforter below them.

It's strange, though, how it seems so much more personal than it had with Roman since last May. She doesn't have that deep pit in her gut that weighs heavy. Neither avert their eyes when the other undresses. Despite its efficiency, it's not robotic.  All of her sexual encounters of recent had either been very robotic or she had been wasted

He leaves dark purple bite marks along the insides of her thighs and deep bruises on her hips. Although a pain kink isn't even on her radar, far from it actually, she doesn't stop him. It's not that she finds it arousing so much as amusing. If for no other reason, she looked forward to watching them fade away into a green color.

Her thoughts come to her head before she can stop them. _Is this what Roman fucks Miranda like? Does she like it? Or is she faking it? _Emma clenches her eyes shut and tries to forget her shameful questions. _Why am I even asking that?_

When his head rises, she can feel him look at her. Coming closer, he takes a moment to examine her throat again. "What is this, a doctor's exam?" She tries to push his hands away.

"I'm concerned," he says and pushes her chin up for a better look.

"Ow," she hisses.

"Is your neck sore?"

"What do you think?"

"What happened?"

"It doesn't matter," she insists. She grinds her hips upwards trying to change the subject but he's invested.

"The hand size is similar to mine," he determines. "A bit bigger... Adult male, approximately 6'3."

Then there's only the feeling of cold water and darkness. Then it's too bright. And it fades away again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Actual video of Emma talking to Miranda: https://youtu.be/2hbWtVCTq7A?t=37
> 
> Hi!!!! Thank you all for your patience!!!! I'm trying to write longer chapters bc I'm wanting to wrap this up in the next three and also my job is kicking my ass so I'm dead 99% of the time.
> 
> That leads me to the big question. Should I continue into season three or end it at the end of season one? I have a couple ideas for season three, but as we all know that season was a disaster. It would probably be pretty short and split from canon more than these two have. Let me know what you think!
> 
> Much love as always!!!
> 
> title is mistaken by tove lo btw


	25. Killer on the Road

* * *

** _ Then there's only the feeling of cold water and darkness. Then it's too bright. And it fades away again. _ **

It's not like in the movies where you gasp and are suddenly and vividly awake.

** _ Light _ **

_ Olivia's hand slowly pats her back before settling on the strap of her bra. Emma looks down at the counter and tries to cover her face with her hair. "It's about time to get you out of that training bra, isn't it?" _

_ Olivia did things like this all too often. She would simply impose herself into a mother-daughter relationship. At best, it was weird, and at worse it was inappropriate. Emma never felt neglected by her mother. She knew from a very young age that Kay worked a lot because she had to, not because she wanted to. Olivia saw that and pounced. _

_ Watching Shelley sit in the corner, eating her rather large meal, Emma pities her. Is she jealous of the affection her mother shows her, or is she happy to be left alone? It's probably a mix of both. _

_ "I don't- I-" Emma struggles. "I guess so." _

_ "Are you washing your face?" The older woman's hands grab at her cheeks. _

_ "Yes?" _

** _ Dark _ **

** _ Light _ **

_ She recognizes this feeling of ice-cold water raining down on her face. It's the same way we woke up after a party at 16. She had fallen asleep on the car ride back, and a coked-out Roman panicked. He used to be like that, back when he had only used a handful of times. _

_ Roman still, at least the last time it came up, swears her drinks were spiked. It hadn't come up in a long time. Probably not in two years. _

** _ Dark _ **

** _ Dark _ **

When she finally manages to hold her heavy eyes open she only sees the textured bathroom ceiling. The water finally stops spraying her and she lets out a shiver. "Fuck," she hears a voice say from beside her. "Do you know where you are?" She doesn't answer.

"I'm cold," she hears herself say. Taking a sober moment to assess her situation, Emma finds herself half-naked and in a dingy motel bathtub. Her bra is soaked and stained with blood and vomit. In any other scenario, she would be disgusted, but right now all she can think about is how cold she is.

Before she has the opportunity to complain again a towel is wrapped around her. Sobering up at the warmth, she stumbles her way to the bed. Emma almost feels bad about laying on Finn's dry bed, but her head hurts and he doesn't seem to mind. "Do you uh- need anything?" He asks awkwardly. It's not like he had anticipated taking care of another human that day. 

When she wakes up again, the sun is setting and the old TV is playing the news at a low hum. Above that is the sound of fingers typing away at a keyboard. After a few deep breaths, she sits up from the bed, departing from the now dry sheets. At the noise, Finn spins his chair around from his desk to look at her. They sit silently before he clears his throat.

"So... What the fuck was that?"

"I don't know," Emma admits. "I guess just happens sometimes."

"It just happens sometimes?" He asks back and she nods. "Since the injury or before?"

"Before."

"How often? Have you been to a doctor?"

"I don't know-"

"Are you epileptic?" He asks.

"No." 

"Do you not remember what happened?"

"It doesn't matter," she says, getting more and more annoyed at his pestering.

"You keep saying it doesn't matter. I'm asking if you remember."

"It doesn't matter," she repeats one last time. Finn nods, giving in to her refusal to answer. Emma stands from her seated position to find the remains of her discarded clothing. 

"Do you have somewhere safe you can stay?" He asks. "Maybe Peter's cousin? She would-"

"I'll just stay with Roman." Emma nods as she fishes her cast through her shirt. "He's got that place on super lockdown."

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" He asks skeptically. 

"Yeah, yeah. It's the safest place to be," she assures him. "What about my mom?"

"What about her?"

"Will she be safe?"

"They won't go after her," he says. "It'd be too suspicious. If it makes you feel any better you could talk to Peter's cousin about it. She might be able to help."

Driving back home, it's already into the early hours of the morning. What had meant to be a quick update had melted into a 12-hour ordeal and a migraine. She manages to make it back before her mother and drags herself upstairs. Her head has barely landed on her pillow when she's back asleep.

.....

Roman hasto return to work. He does have a business to run after all. Leaving his house has never felt so difficult before. He's put in every safety feature you could imagine, but it's a dangerous world. Some of those dangers are inside of his own house.

He has a long day ahead of him. After being in and out of the office so frequently, he has meetings to make up, and phone calls to take. The first meeting of the day isn't a sign of hope. Roman's usual attitude is destroyed when he hears that they are 'essentially hemorrhaging investors.'

"How is that even possible?" Roman asks trying to force out a smirk.

"They've most likely lost confidence in the company," a balding man in the corner says. Roman clenches his fists under the table at the sound of his voice. "There isn't a guiding force here."

"We're being left in the dark here," another man interjects.

"What my colleges are trying to say, Roman," Pryce speaks up. "Is that if you need time away from your position all you need is to say so."

"I don't need time," Roman laughs. "I'm running a business, not a daycare for fucktards. You should all be capable of continuing your work without me holding your hand."

"Our work is not compromised," the first man speaks up. "Everyone that is employed at Godfrey Industries is continuing to work at or above their expected productivity rate. But, none of the investors know that. The investors only know that all of their meetings have been canceled."

"And rescheduled," Roman states.

"And then canceled again," the man finishes. 

"I assure you," Roman says with a bitter smile. "That they are all being handled in a timely manner. Goodbye now." He looks around the room to everyone.

"There's other things on the agenda-" Someone says.

"I said goodbye." He stands from his seat and hastily walks back to his office. He slams the door behind him, but it never closes. Pryce's brown leather shoe catches it first. "I'm busy, Pryce."

"I think you'll find this to be more important." the doctor smiles. "I believe I have found a way to proceed forward with your, eh, cure." Roman's ears seem to peak up. "It will take several treatments."

"What exactly does it entail?" Roman, feeling his mood rise, sits at his desk. 

"Oh, various things."

"I want to know every detail," he demands.

"I can have a report sent up," Pryce bites his bottom lip. "But I think it's best if you don't think about it too much."

Before Roman can respond, there's a knock on his office door. Jenna enters timidly. "I'm so sorry to interrupt Mr. Godfrey, but there were some things we passed over in today's meeting that are urgent."

"Alright," Roman urges her on.

"Um," she says as she moves forward into the office. "So, as you'll remember, we postponed almost all of last year's events after your mother's death." Roman nods. "So beginning this quarter we'll begin reworking in some of those-" Roman's mind wanders as she begins listing off a million mundane plans for the upcoming months. "What do you think?" She finally asks.

"It all sounds good," he says. "Just send me over any files you have and I'll look over them."

Once she's safely out of the office Pryce moves closer to Roman's desk. "We'll plan for Saturday morning. It's best if someone else drives for you."

"Are you going to be sedating me?"

"Unfortunately," Pryce sounds as if it's not unfortunate at all. "Your kind is unaffected by sedation or painkillers." Roman pales. "Plan on resting afterward. You'll be tired."

"Alright," he whispers.

"Your mother shared with me some very concerning news."

"Oh, did she?" Roman scoffs.

"Yes, about a young lady that has been staying with you."

"Yes?"

"In particular, she seemed very, very concerned about her relationship with the child. Something about lactation?" Roman doesn't answer him. "I'd like to meet this lady. Just to make sure everything is okay. That she's healthy."

"She's healthy," Roman assures him. "She's been visiting our family doctor." 

"I must say that I am a bit offended that you did not bring her to me."

"The last girl that went into your office didn't come back out," Roman reminds him.

"A series of very unfortunate events," Pryce nods. "So, I'll see you Saturday at 6:00 in the morning sharp?"

......

Emma sits alone in the basement of the tower, unable to go in with Roman. Her stomach turns nervously for him, threatening to spill up at any moment. It's early on a Saturday morning, and with the exceptions of Roman's medical team, it is empty. Her legs bounce in the silence.

Her head still hurts, despite the hours of rest she had. If she could, she would fall asleep there, but she's far too nervous. Roman wouldn't elaborate on what his treatment would look like, he probably doesn't know himself. He hadn't even wanted her to come originally, he insisted his butler would drive. Emma wouldn't accept that.

As time passes, she becomes unbearably restless and anxious and feels the urge to pace. She paces around her little waiting area until even that becomes claustrophobic. She slowly moves from the room and inches further and further away. The hallways look familiar, like from her old dreams.

It's not a noise or even a feeling. The compulsion to follow the path she had in her dream demands action. So she gives in. The sound of her own footsteps is lost in the anticipation of reaching the next hallway. The feeling is wrong. There's a buzz in her head pulling her forward.

"Miss Parker," a familiar voice catches her attention. Looking behind her, she sees Dr. Pryce approaching. "What are you doing wandering around? This is for authorized personnel only."

"I was trying to find the bathroom," she lies quickly.

"I'll show you the way." He motions toward himself. Emma reluctantly follows next to him."Roman's treatment is over. He'll be ready to leave soon."

"What does this treatment entail?"

"It's quite difficult to explain." He smiles patronizingly.

"Try."

"It's a flushing of sorts. Out with the old, in with the new."

"It's bullshit, isn't it?" She accuses him.

"It's never been done before," he replies calmly. "I am confident in my attempts, though. The restroom is down that way on your right." He points down the hall before turning and leaving her alone.

She drives Roman back home once he's released. With her quick glances over, she can see how hard he's biting his lip. Behind his sunglasses, his eyes remain closed. Emma reaches over to pat his hand but he jumps away. Roman manages to get his door open quickly enough to vomit onto the driveway. 

She does her best to get him upstairs, but he still has to do most of the work. He keeps his sunglasses on even after he's on his bed. He stays deadly silent and still as she struggles to pull his shoes off of his feet. Once done, she sits to catch her breath. "How are you feeling?"

"Horrible," he admits. "I want to sleep but I can't."

"I'm going to get you some water," Emma says. While walking to the kitchen, she passes the only guest bedroom with the door closed. It's then she decides that maybe a bit of sleuthing is in order. Surely, there's more to this story than meets eye. She hates to admit it, but there's some reason Miranda ended up here. And Emma has her doubts about coincidences. 

.....

There's a light creak on the porch. She doesn't think of it, it's probably just the wind. Emma pulls her covers closer and squeezes her eyes tight. She's been a bit more paranoid since her last talk with Finn. She pushes it away, though. Her decision to stay at Roman's was abandoned the moment she realized Peter was staying there as well. That was a family structure she had no intention of joining.

If it had been anyone else telling her to be on alert she would have ignored it. With Finn, it's frightening how more often he is right about these things than wrong. Emma reminds herself that he hasn't reached out in a few days. That means things must be fine. 

Then, there it is again- that creak. It's followed up by a sound she distinctly knows, that of the screen door being opened. Emma shoots up from her bed, running through every escape route possible. The front doorknob rattles gently, desperately trying to remain quiet.

If she tries to go out the backdoor, the intruder will most likely have the front door open. The window isn't an option with her arm. As the noise grows louder and louder, time seems to slow down._ Fight or flight. Fight or flight._ Panicking, she stands from the bed.

Quickly grabbing her pocket knife from the side table, she tries to prepare for whatever might be coming. She slowly goes to her closet. As soon as the closet door is closed, the front is opened. 

The front door creaks open and closed at a painfully slow speed. Emma can feel her heart rises up into her throat and footsteps move through the house and upstairs. The intruder goes to her mother's room first, then to hers.

She watches from between the closet door shutters as the masked figure searches under her bed and in the bathroom. It approaches the closet door but doesn't open it. Emma holds her breath tight and stands still as a corpse. Her knuckles ache from the grip she has around the knife. Then, the person seems to have left her room.

Emma is still holding her breath when the closet door is pushed open. To her surprise, they're not carrying a weapon. Instead of trying to hurt her, they grab her by the shoulders and pull her from her hiding spot. Emma's mind is running on adrenaline, and her mind tells her to use the weapon she has.

It's just a pocket knife, so the damage is minimal. But, it's enough to startle them into letting her go. She runs downstairs and into the kitchen. The hands grab her again, but this time aggressively. Trying to fight them off with her good arm, the hardened cast comes in handy. One solid elbow to the stomach and her good arm is free from their grasp.

She grabs at the only thing within reach- a knife from the block on the counter. She can only hope she grabs a sturdy one in the near darkness. It apparently is good enough to get the job done. The squelching sound of the knife meeting flesh and muscle is quickly followed by her freedom. 

Pulling it back out, the intruder stumbles forward towards her. Their grip grows loser and loser as she repeats the motion, they eventually fall down. She keeps going long after they have stopped fighting. Thrusting the knife in and out as quickly and as thoroughly as she can.

When her arm grows sore, she drops the knife. Emma wipes her hands off on her pajama bottoms before getting up. She walks upstairs, leaving small blood-stained footprints on the carpet. She grabs her phone from the nightside table. The device had been forgotten in the panic. She calls the only person she can think of to help.

Roman greets her from a half-asleep state. "Hey," she says back casually. "How much do you know about disposing of a body?"

He's there within a record time. Emma had told him what happened so calmly over the phone that the only excuse he can find is that she's in shock. When he arrives she seems fine and more annoyed at the whole ordeal than anything else. She's very well adjusted for someone who just killed.

Roman inspects the mess on the kitchen floor. Glancing at Emma, he notices that she's still wearing her stained pajamas. Even her hands are a dark pink tint."Oh!" She squeaks. "I should probably call Finn before we start. He might need to look everything over."

She leaves him there with his mouth watering. Sure, cold blood isn't ideal, but it would be fine. He's resisting to the best of his ability and is thankful when she comes back. "What'd he say?"

"To wait," she replies. "He's on his way now." 

Roman waits impatiently for this guy to get there. It's not long, but Roman wants to get the cleanup underway. He's sure that at any moment Emma will realize what's going on and the body shouldn't be there at that time.

When Finn's headlights shine through the front window, Emma opens the door. Roman hears the car door shut as he gets out. "Hey," a man's voice says from outside. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Emma assures him. She shuts the door and deadbolts it once he's inside.

Roman looks the guy up and down. He's not what he had expected a government agent to look like. This guy was practically a kid. He was older than Roman, sure, but still a kid in his mind. Roman had pictured him to be middle-aged with a mustache or something. He did not expect him to be attractive. 

Finn takes notice of this attention and holds his hand out to greet him. "Hey, Finn Stewart. It's nice to meet you." His voice reveals a tint of antipathy towards him. That rubs Roman the wrong way.

"Yeah, you too," Roman says and returns his handshake.

"Not under great circumstances, eh?" He jokes but Roman doesn't budge. "Well, I'll get to work."

Roman watches from the doorway. Finn takes photos on his camera and removes the mask, revealing a young man's face. Emma retells him the story while he works. Digging through the guy's pockets he finds a white powdery substance, a hunting knife, and a cross. 

"Why don't you go shower and change?" Roman motions to Emma's bloodied being. "I'll get the body out so we can clean."

"I'm just going to get blood on me again," she says with a laugh.

"Well, at least get it off your face. It's gross."

She finally agrees and disappears upstairs. Finn leaves to move his car closer to the backdoor and get a tarp. "What's the plan?" Roman asks when he returns.

"We'll move the body to the tarp, tarp to my car, then someone will come up from DC and handle it," he replies curtly. With Emma gone, any forced friendliness is gone.

It doesn't take much effort to move the body to the tarp. It fits snugly in the trunk of Finn's hatchback and he closes it with a slam. Walking away and back inside, Roman grabs his arm to stop him. 

"Do you have a problem with me?" Roman asks with a snark.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Finn says and stands up straighter to face him. "I have a problem with guys that make my job harder and guys that won't apologize." Roman's lips quiver and he holds in a growl. "Oh! And I especially don't like guys that hurt girls."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"So you're going to tell me that you didn't leave those bruises? You might have made her forget, but that won't make them go away." Finn says.

"Forget this," Roman demands.

"You can't use that on me. Listen, _ kid _, I've met plenty of your kind before. I know more about your abilities than you do. And I'm warning you right now to stop before someone get's hurt. If you keep using it on her you're going to melt her fucking brain. How many of her memories have you altered? Or your mother?" He asks. "What is it, man? Fifteen percent? Twenty?"

"Stay out of my business," Roman says and yanks the door open.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I know gifs are like a wattpad thing BUT LOOK AT THAT POUTY BOY
> 
> Hi hello hi!!! Thank you for reading and being patient with me!!! I love you guys so much and I hope it's at least worth the wait.
> 
> As always, comments and constructive criticism are welcomed appreciated. 
> 
> I also was reminded this week that I had an instagram feed set up on my tumblr for anyone who's interested. I'm going to try start updating it again.


	26. Monster

Emma triple checks the kitchen floor for any hints of blood. They've scrubbed it until the linoleum and carpet are clean, but she still worried they'd missed something. It's only a half-hour before the sun rises that Finn leaves with the body. He hadn't told her what was going to happen to it, and she didn't particularly care. 

"You good?" He asks.

"Yeah, yeah."

"Do you want to grab some things and go? I'm sure you're tired..."

"I'm going to come later," Emma says and rubs at her face. "I am tired, though."

"Are you sure it's safe?"

"My mom will be home soon," she assures him. 

Her mom is home soon. Roman is long gone before she unlocks the front door, and Emma hides in her bedroom. Her heart beats so fast she swears it could give out. She listens as Kay locks the door and kicks off her shoes. She can hear her walk to the kitchen, then the subtle noise of the fridge opening and closing.

There's a silent moment where Emma fears that they had missed something. Some speck of blood or a footprint. Then the stairs creak and her mother's bedroom door closes. Emma lets go of the tension she had been holding and falls back into bed. 

Finn had repeatedly told her not to worry about her mother. It didn't work. She covers her eyes with her hands and thinks. Nothing comes to mind and she feels helpless. If anything happened to her mother she'd never forgive herself, that much she knows.

At some point she drifts asleep, only to wake in a panic. Emma's drenched in sweat and with a strange taste in her mouth, but she's unsure why. Whatever she had dreamt about left her feeling anxious and stressed. 

She should have gone to see Destiny before doing what she'd done. 

There was a tinge of a memory from her last class in school. Something from a book she never finished reading. Dr. Lowenstein's class was equipped with a long list of books for the semester. Most of them were for later in the semester, long after her injuries. 

Emma hadn't tried to read a book since she had gotten back home. She hadn't expected to her casted arm to be such a nuisance. Gripping the old tattered book with one hand, she flips through it.  _ Nothing, nothing, nothing, aha! _

** _[ Druids also made a "hedge," the airbe druad, round an army, perhaps circumambulating it and saying spells so that the attacking force might not breakthrough. If anyone could leap this "hedge," the spell was broken, but he lost his life. This was done at the battle of Cul Dremne, at which S. Columba was present and aided the heroic leaper with his prayers. ]_ **

She'd be embarrassed about her attempts had she not been so desperate. She has to try something. So, she does the only thing that has ever made her feel a little closer to Peter and Roman's world.

If anyone walked in, they surely would believe she was performing some Satanic ritual. There are strange doodles on the walls of her bedroom- odd shapes from the fairytale books her professor had lent her. She doesn't know what they mean- if anything at all. Instead, a gut feeling guides her shaking hand to copy them. When her cuts seem to exhaust, she moves a few inches at a time until reaching her palm.

** _[ "The person that was crying abroad is the villain who has your cattle bewitched; I brought her to the house, but she was not able to come to the door on account of that horseshoe." ]_ **

If all the strange things Destiny had done worked, why wouldn't this?

When she comes it's later into the afternoon. Roman's still at work, and the only person there seems to be Anna. Emma lets herself in and is greeted by a grumpy 'humph' from the kitchen. She moves past it, unfazed, and upstairs. 

She takes the guest bedroom closest to Roman's. She doesn't bother with unpacking her bag, hoping that it will all be over soon. If she unpacks she's giving in. Roman's not home. Still exhausted, she considers going to his room, but his door is shut. 

Emma does eventually fall asleep in her temporary room. When she wakes up the sun is setting. She lays in the dark with only the blue light from her TV shining out. Her stomach growls but the world behind her door suddenly seems too large and intimidating. 

Later into the night, there's a knock at her door. "Come in," she calls out. Roman enters sheepishly with his arms full. "Hey."

"Hey." Roman closes the door and leans back on it. He flips the light switch, hurting her eyes.

"What's up?" She asks and rubs at her eyelids. 

"I brought you some towels."

"Thanks," she lets out a smile. She waits for his ulterior motive. Emma knows that Roman knows that she very well knows where the towels are. She stares at him until she speaks again.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she replies. "Why?"

"Well, you did kill a person."

"Who was trying to kill me," she reminds him casually. "Self-defense." 

"I guess." Roman crosses his arms and looks around. "So, Finn seems  _ cool _ ," Roman tries to sound genuine.

"Yeah, he's got some interesting stories."

"I bet," Roman continues. "He's not what I expected."

"What did you expect?" She chuckles.

"I guess older." He shrugs. "Like what you'd expect a government agent to look like. He looks too young."

"I think he's like 28, maybe 29," Emma says. "I haven't asked."

"You seem close," he pushes a bit further.

"We've been working together for a while now, I guess."

"Are you hooking up with him?" He finally asks bluntly.

"That's none of your business," she says with a puzzled laugh.

"I'm just curious," he reasons. "You ask me about my sex life all the time."

"I have never asked you about your sex life," she continues to laugh. "You just overshare with me."

The next day she goes back to her routine of picking up Sydney and taking her home. She hates walking around town as if she hadn't already been looking over her shoulders enough. It had been months of stress that finally led to a grand display of carnage. Every time someone had told her she was being paranoid. They were wrong. 

That week, she's finally freed from her cast. The doctor reminds her to be extra careful with it and to not push her limits. No one warned her about the lingering ache or the discomfort of dried skin. She's told to follow up in a few weeks for nerve damage and to schedule another CT scan. 

Roman had been so busy at work that she'd barely seen him. She's sure Nadia has seen even less. In fact, she hadn't seen the child since that day at Destiny's. The only humans that ever seemed to enter the locked-down room were Anna and Miranda. Neither of which left her with a good feeling.

That afternoon, she enters the unlocked door and is glad to see that only Anna is there. Instead of feeling any form of affection or pity for the lonely infant, her stomach turns. Its existence disturbs her. It leaves her feeling disgusted and guilty over her disgust.

Looking at her as Anna feeds her, she realizes something. Any feeling of authority only exists in her vicariously. It's only due to the deep-seated need to protect what is Roman's. If she could undo its existence she would. But then there is also the absolute joy it brings her to threaten the intruder. The predator.

Leaving the room, a breath of fresh air enters her lungs. She goes back to her room and paces. The threat is there, living and breathing only a few rooms over from her. Her mind screams for her to eliminate it. Emma peaks around her curtain to see if Miranda's car is in the driveway. It's not.

She takes a deep breath before opening the door. Inside, the room is still similar to the one Roman had shown her on her first visit. The only difference is the clothing that lingers on the floor and the shoes that are kicked into corners. In the two months, she had been there, Miranda had made herself at home.

It's a complete invasion of privacy. Her actions would infuriate both Roman and Peter if they knew. In spite of everything, they still wanted to trust Miranda. They wanted her to be on their team. It made no sense to her. Dreams or no dreams- she wasn't worth it.

Emma creeps around, careful to return everything to its place when she's done. The girl doesn't seem to have any personal items. There are a couple of books on her nightstand, but they might have already been there as decoration. Snooping further and further, she lands in the closet. A backpack sits slightly hidden behind another duffle bag. "Jackpot."

Emma kneels in front of it but pauses. This really was a total invasion of privacy. But wasn't Miranda's existence a total invasion of privacy in itself? With that thought, she unzips it. Inside are several notebooks and papers. Emma pulls them out one by one.

Miranda's passport is in the front pocket and it reveals no new information. In one of the folders, she finds a stack of checks that are all from various blood banks. 

Most of the writings are dated from the previous year. Emma quickly reads through the pages of shitty poems, vague thoughts, and subtle erotica. She takes a closer notice as the days become more recent. There's nothing that sets off an alarm. She wishes desperately she had found something that did.

Returning to her room with her tail between her legs, she lets out a groan and flops onto the bed. 

At work, Roman is painfully sitting through an interview for a business magazine or blog or something. He doesn't remember or care. Jenna sits in the corner of the room, ready to prep him for an answer or kills a comment from the reporter. This is apparently the kind of thing he zoned out on.

Without a knock, Dr. Pryce enters. It's one of the only times Roman had been thankful to see him. "Roman," he greets him. His hair is messy and he's out of breath. The reporter scribbles down notes. That worries Roman.

"Is something wrong, Dr. Pryce?" Roman asks warningly, as if to say  _ even if there is something wrong, lie.  _

"No, not at all. The exact opposite really." Pryce smiles. "Something amazing."

"Is it urgent?"

"It is of the utmost importance and I'm sure you'll agree," Pryce tells him then looks over to Jenna and the reporter. "I am so sorry to interrupt, but this is a... project that we have been working on since last March. I'm sure you understand."

"Of course," the reporter says biting back annoyance.

"Maybe we could schedule something over the phone?" Jenna suggests. As the two converse about possibilities, Roman sneaks out with Pryce.

"What's happening?" He asks once in the privacy of the elevator.

"I'd rather show you than tell you."

Roman's mind wanders through all of the experiments that his teams have been working on. Then it drifts to the more  _ private  _ parts of Godfrey Industries. The parts that only Dr. Pryce controlled. When the elevator lands deep in the basement, Pryce grows giddy. 

"Shelley," he whispers to himself. "Shelley," he repeats louder and rushes forward. Kneeling at the edge of her bed and grins so wide that his cheeks burn.

"Roman," she says with a light giggle. Roman's eyes open wide at the sound of her voice. Her voice. Not the robotic one he was accustomed to. She had a voice.

"Say it again," he beams.

"Roman," she laughs louder. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you so much," his voice trembles. Blinking fast, he shoves back the tears that threaten to emerge. 

It's perfect, nothing could ruin this moment. The thought of their mother making an appearance doesn't cross his mind until she's there.

Later, when Shelley has fallen asleep, he rushes home. He's eager to share the good news with the only person that saw the aftermath of when Shelley disappeared. Roman had tried to keep positive throughout that time, he told himself over and over again that Shelley was out there. She was alive somewhere.

He never truly believed it. Emma knew that.

Roman knocks on her door a few times and waits. Her car is in the driveway, she has to be here. "She's not here," a voice interrupts his thoughts. Anna had always had a talent for silently sneaking up behind people. "She left about twenty minutes ago."

"Where did she go?" He asks, but Anna is already gone. Returning to his room, he unlocks his phone.

"Hi?" He hears Emma answer after only a few rings.

"Hey, where are you?" He asks.

"I'm getting dinner with Finn," she says with a mouthful. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, I just had a crazy day at work," he says trying to sound casual. "I wanted to tell you about it."

"I'll be back soon," she assures him. "Are you hungry? Do you want me to bring back something?"

"No, I'm fine. Thanks."

When she returns later into the night, Roman is sitting on the couch with a book in one hand and a glass of red wine in the other. Emma hangs her jacks up and approaches him. He glances up with a nod but doesn't say anything. "What are you reading?"

"It's a book about professional advancement-"

"Is that a self-help book? Roman Godfrey, you have fallen," she jokes.

"Well." He closes the book. "If you must know, it is. I've been having to do more public stuff and apparently, I still seem... hostile," he explains with disdain. 

"That's so unlike you."

"I know." He shrugs. "How was dinner?"

"It was the diner, so take that for what you will."

"You have a good time?"

"I did." She nods hesitantly. When Roman doesn't say anything she sighs. "Well, I'll let you get back to your book. I've got some reading to do myself." 

Roman silently watches her walk upstairs. Hearing the sound of her door close, he downs his glass of wine. He pours himself more which quickly disappears. Then another. And another- until the bottle is empty and his head feels lighter. It had been a good day, a day to celebrate. Shelley was alive, his child was safe in his house, and even his business was doing well. It was a much needed day of joy and brightness.

But it's not those joyous feelings that lead him upstairs. It's a heavy feeling in that stirs in his stomach. It's the anger bubbling below that bring his hand to knock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi hi hello. Thank you for all the kind words after the last chapter!  
I'm slowly trying to introduce even crazier shit into this story and it feels really weird lol. Then I remember that meme I posted at the beginning of this story and think about all the weird shit that happened on the show. Most importantly that BOTH roman and peter fell in love with Miranda. I'm not over it guys, I'm really not. Am I using Emma to express my feelings about it? Absolutely.  
So, I guess this is kind of a weird transition chapter from the normal stuff to "hey guys btw from now on this blood stuff will be pretty normal jsyk."
> 
> Thank you again for waiting and reading. I'm so so so grateful that you guys are still on this journey with me.


	27. Rescind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for what you're about to read. I'm just quoting Destiny in S2E6.

_But it's not those joyous feelings that lead him upstairs. It's a heavy feeling in that stirs in his stomach. It's the anger bubbling below that bring his hand to knock._

Emma's barely opened her book when she closes it. She's gotten through maybe two pages when the exhaustion hits her. She had felt particularly tired over the past few days but didn't think much of it. With all that's going on, exhaustion is the last thing on her mind.

The noises start off subtle at first. Just movement and the creaks from the wood floor. It's followed shortly by the loud creaks from a bed. That's what catches her attention. 

Ears acutely aware of what's happening one room over, nothing is missed. _Oh Daddy! You're so big!_ _Fuck yes! _

Cringing, she covers her head with a pillow.

Emma throws her covers off of herself, ready to knock on his door and tell him to be quiet. She stops herself. He's doing this on purpose, she's sure of that.

She lays back down and covers her head with her pillow. She'll be goddamned if she lets Roman Godfrey win.

_I'm cuming so hard!_

In the morning, Emma's exhausted. Even for not sleeping well she feels like shit. Still, she drags herself out of bed and forces and energetic exterior. She's going to act like she slept great. The best sleep of her life.

.....

Roman spends every single free moment he has with Shelley. He asks her to tell him every single detail of the last year of her life. Where had she been? Who had been there? Why didn't she come back? Shelley tries to intercut with questions about his life, but his answers are always short.

He goes to visit her on his lunch break and is disappointed to find her bed empty. As if she had been waiting on him to arrive, Olivia comes around the corner. "Pryce has taken her for blood testing."

"What are you doing here?" Roman seethes.

"I'm visiting my daughter," Olivia says. 

"What do you want from her?"

"I want her to be happy." Olivia walks past him and sits on the edge of the empty bed. "I am her mother, after all."

"Unfortunately." Roman stands in the doorway.

"Pryce says he has done some amazing work." Roman just stares at her in disgust.

"I'm sure he has." Roman seethes as he debates leaving. He could come back to see Shelley, but the thought of her alone with Olivia is indigestible. He won't let their mother ruin this for him- for Shelley. "How many times have you come to see her?"

"I'm here every day." He looks away with a scowl. "Roman," Olivia sighs and licks her lips. "I'm dying."

"Promise?" Roman smiles bitterly. "Is it for good this time?"

"Yes." Olivia looks to her son, eyes glassing over. "I'm sick."

"With what?" He doesn't believe her.

"It's cancer."

"It's what you deserve." Roman sucks in his cheeks. 

Thankfully, the noise of wheels rolling over the linoleum breaks up their conversation. Pryce rolls Shelley up to the door and Roman moves out of their way. "Oh," Pryce says with a phony smile. "We're having a whole Godfrey family reunion, huh?"

"I'm so glad both of you are here." Shelley looks back and forth from her mother and brother. She's not oblivious to the mood of the room. One of the many things Roman admired about his sister was her determination to bring them all together. It's the one thing, that no matter how hard he tries, he can't give her. "There's something I- we want to share with you."

"What is it, dear?" Olivia stands and walks to her daughter. "Tell me."

"It's better if we show you," Shelley smiles and looks up at Pryce.

Pryce leads them to a lab that Roman has never been to before. These lower floors all looked the same, and the hallways melted together. Roman rarely spent time down here, but he's not sure it would make a difference if he had. White hallway after while hallways, flickering florescent lights overhead, the walk seems never-ending.

Roman's not sure how many secured doors Pryce takes them through, but he thinks it's excessive. He probably wouldn't have thought anything of this door had it not been dark on the other side. The only light emits from a circular pool in the center of the large room.

Olivia walks tow

"What is it?" Olivia gasps.

"Who is it?" Pryce corrects her. "This is Pricilla, well, for now. Soon, it will be Shelley."

"How?" Olivia walks around the pool. "How did you create this?"

"It took time, a lot of time," Pryce beams. "But she's ready."

Roman's stomach turns as he looks are the body in the water. He wonders if this is the same one he had seen all those months ago. The one that had reacted to noise. Looking up, he catches a glimpse of his mother's face. She's holding an expression he's seen a million times in his life. One that's up to no good. 

.....

Emma eventually drags herself home to have dinner with her mother. The house doesn't feel like the one she had lived in before.

"Your friend's here," Roman says through the door. She follows him downstairs and to the dining table where Finn and Peter have congregated. Peter is eating a bowl of cereal and laughing at a joke the other man had made. He looks up at the noise.

"Em, you look like shit," Peter says with a mouthful.

"Thanks," Emma replies sarcastically. Pulling out a seat, she sits across from him. "You really know how to talk to a lady."

"So, what's this meeting about?" Roman interrupts.

"Well," Finn starts. "Since you all insist on being involved, I think it's best we remain in communication about any new information we find and I believe I'm about to have something big." This grabs both of the boys' interest and the come in closer to the island. "We found the original compound that they occupied in Utah."

Finn opens his file and spreads out a few documents and photos. They show images of abandoned and decaying buildings in the plains of Utah. The only building in pristine condition is their church. The documents are scribbled on and occasionally have a red stamp that reads 'confidential' or a black bar through a sentence. 

"Creepy," Peter says under his breath.

"Really," Finn agrees. 

"What does this do for us now? It looks empty?" Roman asks, no enthused by the information provided.

"Well," Finn says as he glares up. "It leads me to believe that they're running low on members. They've probably all begun to migrate here."

"Okay, okay" Emma mutters.

"Then, there is the deed to the property." Finn shuffles through the papers to find a stack that is stapled together. "A man named Titus Mills owns this property." He shuffles again to find a photo of an older man. "He is a disgraced former priest with the Mormon Church."

"He's the leader?" Peter asks.

"Now he is," Finn confirms. "Early into his priesthood he somehow came across a man named Abel Peters. Able had influenced his beliefs so much that Titus was excommunicated by the Mormon Church." He finds a scanned copy of a newspaper article.

"Holy shit," Emma says and grabs the article. "A Latter-Day Saints Priest was excommunicated last week following a strange and horrifying series of services. Member of his congregation claim he had begun to speak of demonic-like children that needed to be neutralized. The Church has not made a public statement yet. However, an official has been reported saying that 'this behavior is unacceptable and damaging to the reputation of the Church."

"Holy shit," Peter agrees. 

"Well, this is a great history lesson," Roman says and claps his hands together. "But it seems like useless trivia."

"The name," Emma taps on the paper. "People can't just disappear. He must have left a paper trail on the way here."

"Bingo," Finn says. "I'm trying to follow his trail, it's just taking time. But, there is something incredibly useful. These guys," he chuckles. "These guys have a network of safe houses. That means there's one here and we're going to find it."

.....

Everyone disbands from the meeting in a drastically better mood than before. Emma says goodbye to Finn and retreats to her room. She catches a glance of herself in a decorative hallway mirror. She has to do a double look. She really does look like shit.

When the knock at her door wakes her up, it's dark out. Roman doesn't wait for an answer before entering. "You've been asleep for like 10 hours," Roman says.

"I'm just feeling tired, I-I guess." She sits up and yawns.

"Why don't you come with me on Saturday?" He suggests. "I'll get a doctor to check your noggin out."

"I'm fine," she assures him.

"Just let them make sure. Your arm might be fine, but your head's all scrambled."

"Okay," she gives in.

On Saturday morning she waves Roman off to his treatment. Once he's pushed passed the OR doors, she's led down the hall to get an MRI.

Without a knock, a female doctor enters abruptly and sits at the desk. Opening the laptop she begins looking through images. "Is this your first brain injury?" She asks in her hard Russian accent.

"I've had a couple of concussions." The doctor types away. She looks Emma over once more without a word. "Is everything okay?" Emma breaks the silence.

"You have very interesting face," she says. 

"Thanks?" Emma chuckles nervously.

"Is not compliment," she replies sharply. "You are very thin. No breasts, no hips. You look like little boy."

"I- I don't know how to respond to that." Emma sits wide-eyed. The doctor shuts her laptop and gathers her papers.

"Get rest and eat more."

She sits anxiously in the hallway waiting for Roman to emerge. Something felt wrong about the way her appointment had gone. Even disregarding the weird insults, it felt wrong. 

Down the hall, there is an empty receptionist area. The lights are off but the computer screen is still illuminated. Looking around for any sign of life confirms that she's completely alone. Emma makes her move.

She takes a seat at the desk and brings the computer out of its sleep. She's genuinely surprised to see no password protecting the computer._ This is such a security risk. _

The database of files is intuitive and Emma finds her own within minutes. She scrolls through it quickly but finds nothing suspicious. A flu shot here, a cough there on the weekend... Most of her pediatric trips had been with doctors her mom worked with. The institute had always been for small things. 

Then there's a strange pattern of blank reports. The only indication that they exist is the corresponding dates. When clicked on there's only a 'this folder does not exist' to greet her. The dates do catch her attention, they're back to back. Six days consecutively. It could be a fluke, but that would be too easy. Nothing in this world is that simple.

"Ms. Parker," the cold voice scares her. "How is it that I always find you wandering off?"

"I get lost easily," she responds quickly.

"I'm sure," he says with a small smile. 

"My phone died." Emma smiles at him and tries to play stupid. "I wanted to check my Facebook."

"Very well." He forces a pained smile back to her. "Roman should be ready to leave soon."

.....

Emma sneaks out of Roman's house that night. She wonders if this is what normal teenagers went through when they went out to parties. She's an adult so she doesn't really have to sneak out, but it's not worth the commotion it will cause.

An eerie feeling washes over her. After all, she is in a graveyard in the middle of the night. 

Standing and looking down at her blanket, she almost leaves. _ This is so fucked _Emma thinks. Here she is in the dead of night, in the middle of a graveyard, about to sleep on the grave of her best friend's father. And for what? To see if some ancient ritual from an old book she read works? 

** _ [Those who sought hidden knowledge graves, hoping to be inspired by the spirits of the dead.] _ **

Despite all of the protest in her gut, she quickly slices through a portion of her palm. She rubs the open wound over the cold, smooth marble. Emma thinks there's no way she'll be able to sleep. It's too scary. She's wrong. 

As soon as her head hits the blanket she's out cold.

Emma feels as though she's sinking into the dirt below her and into darkness. Then, there's the bright and pure light beaming from the ceiling above her. She's standing, barefoot, on the cold epoxy floor of the tower. Walking forward, the crinkle of the hospital gown she's in echoes back to her.

It's a maze of empty rooms and

It's so close she can almost taste it. It smells like disinfectant and alcohol-soaked wipes. The next hallway she turns down is darker. As she walks closer the destination seems further and further away. Every time she almost gets there, it slips just out of reach. 

Then there's the morning light shining down on her. Emma sits up slowly and looks down at her body. There's no mud or dirt, it's just as she had fallen asleep.

.....

Roman is eating, well drinking, his breakfast before work. He sits at the kitchen island with his Ipad and scrolls through the news. He's interrupted by the front door opening slowly. Glancing up, he sees Emma trying to sneak to the stairs. "What are you doing up so early?"

"Mom locked herself out," she lies smoothly. "What are you doing up so early?"

"I've got a bunch of shit to do at the tower. Early bird gets the worm... or whatever."

"Everything good?" She asks, taking a step forward before stopping herself.

"Uh, yeah," Roman brushes it off. It truth, he's heading there early to see Shelley and talk to Pryce about everything. He needed to know exactly how this body transfer would work. Most importantly, he had to be certain it was safe. Roman considers admitting this but decides it's not the right time. "Everything's fine. Just some contracts."

At the tower, everything is far from fine. Those things can wait. For now, he wants to see his sister. She's always been a morning person and that hasn't changed. When Roman knocks on her door he's happy to see her reading some Jane Austin novel. It's a familiar sight just with different surroundings.

"Hi!" She greets him with a wide smile. Setting the book down, she pats the spot on her bed for him to sit.

"Hey, Shel," he says before sitting. "How are you?"

"I'm well," she says. "How are you?"

"I'm doing great."

"You look tired."

"I am," he admits. "But it's fine. Things are busy upstairs."

"You should take a vacation. You work too hard."

"I really don't," he says with a laugh. "Plus, I took a vacation back in December."

"Where did you go?" She perks up.

"Bora Bora."

"Was is beautiful."

"Incredibly. We'll go one day when you're feeling up to it."

"How are your friends?" She asks finally feeling a small crack into her brother's personal life. One that he hasn't been interested in sharing.

"Everyone's good," he says.

"Nothing interesting?"

"Not particularly." Roman knows that she would want to know everything, but she doesn't need to. She's best here, he reasons. Sheltered and protected.

Roman doesn't get a chance to speak to Pryce that day. His schedule is full of meetings and paperwork. He's not sure what these meetings are about anymore. They all blend together. Even his lunch is interrupted by the PR ramming themselves in. He's a pro at nodding along but never really hearing anything.

When he gets home it's dark. Peter is watching TV in the living room and nursing a beer. Upstairs, Miranda is sitting alone and nursing Nadia. Roman stops by his daughter's room briefly to greet the child. He's trying to want this. He really is.

.....

Emma awakes suddenly with a strong shiver. She's freezing cold and grips to the blankets below her. Her body resists its own desire to sleep. Something keeps turning in her stomach. She ignores her body's pleading to remain under the blankets and stands.

Her heart beats calmly as she walks through the silent house. The only noises accompanying her footsteps are the air conditioning blowing and the buzz from the refrigerator. Without a thought, she patters into the kitchen and digs through drawers until she finds what she's looking for.

Emma doesn't turn on the light. The moon shines through the window and gives her enough guidance. She crawls onto the bed hand, gripping the plastic handle of the knife tight. Despite her cautiousness, the bed still sinks enough and the motions causes a stir in the sleeping body.

"Hmmm?" 

Emma ignores it and keeps crawling forward. "Mmmm." This time the noise is accompanied by the soft fluttering of Miranda's eyes. Once the girl registers what's going on she tries to sit up, only to be blocked by Emma straddling her down.

"What are you-"

"Shut up!" She uses her hand to muffle the sounds. When

"Are you going to kill me?" Miranda whispers after catching a glimpse of metal in the moonlight.

"I haven't kill you yet, have I?" She snorts. "Believe me, I want to. I think about killing you every day," Emma tells her blankly. She hadn't even realized that she the thought had crossed her mind, but hearing herself say it aloud makes it feel true.

"Fuck you," Miranda spits and tries to push her off again. In response, the point of the knife is pressed against her trachea. "You're a fucking psychopath!" Miranda yells and struggles under her. "Let me go!"

"Shut up!" She threatens again, the tip of the knife pushing in just a hair. "Stop screaming."

"What do you want?" Miranda breathes heavily.

"I want you to pack your bags and leave and never look back," Emma says sternly.

"You're not going to kill me," Miranda says with a smile and a huff of air. "If you were you would have done it by now."

"Try me."

"You won't. And you know why I know you won't? Because he'd never forgive you." Miranda nods her head to the best of her ability in the direction of Roman's room. "It's not going to make him love you," she strikes. "It's pathetic- the way you follow after him." She tries to squirm free again.

"If you think that's what's going on you're more stupid than I thought you were."

"Then what is it? Huh?" She tries to move again. "I see it, Peter sees it, Roman definitely sees it. I know more than you think I do. Roman's told me all about you. He's told me about your little crush on Peter, how you'd fuck anyone that said please."

"You're bold for someone who has a knife to their throat."

"Kill me then."

"I just don't think I have it in me," she admits quietly and relaxes the knife. It gives Miranda the perfect escape to grab her wrists and pin her down. In the blur of it all, Emma doesn't realize she's been lifted and carried back to her own room. It only becomes clear when she's sitting on her bed and the overhead light is turned on. 

"What the actual fuck going on?" Roman asks, voice shaking trying to stay calm. He's kneeling in front off her in his pajamas.

"I-I," she tries to form a sentence but her mind is moving too fast and too slow simultaneously.

"You just- you can't-" He stops to pull at his hair. "You need to explain yourself and you need to do it before I get angrier."

"Ro- I-" She stutters. Wide-eyed, she looks around to avoid eye contact. She begins biting at her nails and stuttering in attempts to speak. It only halts when he roughly pulls her hands away by the wrist. "Don't touch me!"

"Speak," he barks.

"She's going to do something terrible," Emma whispers.

"And why do you say that?" He asks, taking a deep breath and a long blink to calm down.

"I don't know how I just know it." Emma leans closer to him, desperate. "You have to believe me, Roman."

"Tell me why you think that," he says back, softer than before.

"I just feel it."

"Feeling like someone might do something bad doesn't mean you should try to kill them-"

"I wasn't going to-"

"Then what the fuck was that?" He asks with a desperate laugh.

"She has to go."

"You're not making any sense!" He exacerbates.

"Roman," she whines. "You have to trust me, I wouldn't make this up. Please. I'm your best friend, please!"

"Emma," he whispers back. "Do you not hear yourself? You're not acting like the person I know."

"Ro-"

"Go to sleep," he tells her. 

"She's going to ruin you," Emma struggles to get out. She fights it off as long as she can. Fights it long enough to hear him lock her in her room.

Drifting in and out of lucidity, there's a commotion going on outside of the room. "Roman! She tried to kill me!"

"I wouldn't say tried per-se," Peter pops in.

"There was a knife to my throat!"

"What do you want me to do?" Roman asks. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Hi friends! As some of you might know, I live in LA where there are like 150 coronavirus cases confirmed. I am very lucky that I haven't been exposed so far. Unfortunately, it is throwing my work schedule for a loop and I'm scraping by on freelance work.
> 
> Also! I've spent a lot, and I mean a lot, of time researching Celtic Paganism and Druids and whatnot. If anyone's interested in that stuff I'm happy to post a list of the things I've been using.
> 
> Please stay safe and healthy everyone! Much love!!!
> 
> PS: I hope you all cringed as much as i did at the first bit. You're welcome!!!


	28. Often

Roman doesn't get back to sleep that night. Partially because of his own racing mind, and partially because of the crying girl on his bed. He doesn't feel like dealing with Miranda at the moment but he feels liable for what had just happened. This was his house after all.

"Nadia's not safe here, not with her here," Miranda rambles on. "What should we do?"

"It's fine now," Roman says. "Everything is fine now."

"No, it's not!" He puts his head in his hands as she continues on. It fades into the background as the pounding in his own head grows louder and louder. "She's crazy, Roman!"

"I need a minute," he whispers to himself and glances at her. "This isn't like-"

"A minute for what, Roman?" Miranda asks. "This isn't what? Like her? She's a fucking psychopath. I could tell that from the first time I saw her."

"Go to sleep," he echoes his words from earlier. When her breathing is even and slow, his mind finally clears up enough to think.

Downstairs, he finds Peter drinking straight from a bottle of Don Julio. When he sees Roman approaching he holds it out for him. Taking it, he drinks until he thinks he might throw up. Peter takes another drink and hisses. "Holy shit."

"Yeah," Roman breathes.

"What's the plan."

"I have no idea." Roman lets out a pathetic life. Peter pats his shoulder to comfort him. "I don't even know what to say."

"Is Miranda okay?"

"Yeah, not even a scratch... She's asleep for now."

"That's probably for the best." Peter sits on the couch. "Do you think what she said was true?"

"Huh?"

"That Emma's in love with you."

"No."

"She said that-"

"She said a lot of things..." Roman can't fathom the words to describe what he had just encountered. "Peter... I don't know what I'm supposed to do. Something's not right."

"Clearly."

"No, I mean it. She's never trusted Miranda, that's always been clear, but this is- this is fucked."

"I know, man," Peter sighs.

"That's not helping me."

"What do you want me to say?" Peter asks. "I don't have a solution for you!"

"I know," Roman groans and takes another gulp. 

He takes a seat on the couch and covers his face again. A million ideas run through his head but none seem like the right thing to do. He could have Emma go back home, but that isn't safe for her. But having her here isn't safe for Miranda either.

He's as confused about what to do as he had always been about his feelings for Miranda. His whole like changed the day she had come knocking on his door. He had been feeling so stuck like his life wasn't going anywhere. There was nothing new for him to accomplish- he has a business, he had money- had the life people would sell their souls for.

But it wasn't fulfilling. For a brief period of time, his tryst with Miranda had been. Despite having sex that first night, he did find himself having a crush on her. Roman recoils at his use of the word. A crush? What was her? Some fourteen year old kid?

Then, there was her connection with the baby. Clearly that had to mean something.

It felt like a sign from the universe, and Roman never got signs from the universe. It makes him sick to his stomach to accept it, but there was a thrill in it. Whether it was Peter and his fighting, or Emma's absolute loathing over her, it was exciting. It made him feel good to know that so many people were invested in what he was doing. They were affected by it. He thrived in the chaos.

Roman drinks a bit more and smokes a couple of cigarettes while he paces. Peter had returned to bed not too long after their conversation. Roman doesn't understand how he could sleep in a time like this. Roman's legs can't stay still long enough for him to even sit down, much less sleep. The house sits quietly with the only interruption being Anna's regular checks on Nadia.

To be a fly on the wall during all of this... Anyone looking in would see this madness and run in the opposite direction. When had they all gotten so goddamn weird? Well, weird by his standards. Somehow, Peter has ended up the most normal and stable one of them all. And he had been turning against the moon. All Roman can conclude is that something is very fucked up.

He can't recall the last time Emma had been completely normal. Or what that used to be like. Even at the best of times, she'd seemed shell shocked since the incident last year. He doesn't know what to call it. It seems unfair to himself to name it. What they had been like before had become a distant memory that slips further and further away every day. He supposes he's changed a bit too.

Emma wakes up with the morning sun coming over the horizon. Roman's compulsions weren't as strong as they had once been, and his sleeping orders faded quickly. Her body feels heavy and she wishes she could get back to sleep but can't.

Whether her door is still locked is a mystery. Emma hasn't tried to leave, she doesn't know where to go. If she could pack her bag and get through the front door without drawing any attention she would. That's impossible.

Not knowing what else to do, she runs herself a bath. The little altercation she had gotten in had left her with a thin layer of sweat. Time moves slowly as she stares at the white wall in front of her. She runs her pruned fingers over the water as if she were petting an animal.

When that sensation becomes dull, she begins picking at the healing cuts on her hand. The one on her dominant hand is particularly tender, possibly from gripping the kitchen knife too tight. It may have needed stitches, but it was too late for that now. She keeps picking at it until the pain becomes sharps and a fresh layer of blood meets the air to rebuild its protective shell.

The ripples in the water lull her mind to silence. White noise sings from the stilling water. Taking one last breath, she sinks into the now cold water and lets it out. She sucks in the water and accepts the darkness it gives her.

The human mind can't comprehend nothingness. It feels like nothing, but there must be something there. However, all of the space surrounding her is absent from obstruction. Just black for as far as she can see. The only noise is that of her feet trailing through the inches of water on the ground.

She wonders if this is what Destiny sees during her visions. Emma supposes that there has to be something there when Destiny does this. Why isn't there anything here? Surely if she keeps moving forward she'll find something.

Some invisible force pulling at her chest. Rising from the water, she coughs until her body is cleared. The cold tile stings her ass, and the cotton sticking to her back absorbs some of the water. "What are you doing?" He asks, pushing the hair back from her face as she coughs harder. "What's going."

"Let me go!" She fights his hold, suddenly enraged by the interruption.

"What is happening?" He asks, tightening his grip on her. "Talk to me."

"Let me go!" She fights again.

"Hey, hey, hey, relax." He holds her still until she stops pushing him away. Suddenly self-conscious about her body, she pulls her knees close to her chest. "What's going on?" He asks as gently as possible.

"I don't know," she says and finally catches her breath. "Something is missing from me."

"Please talk to me," he says reaching out for a towel to wrap around her. "I'm trying to understand what's going on."

"There's something wrong," she warns him. "I don't know what it is, but there's something out there and it's bad."

"Yes, the cult-"

"No! Something different. I don't know what it is."

"I want to believe you, but you have to be honest."

"I am being honest! I'm telling you everything I know-"

"You don't know these things. You feel-"

"Last year!" She cuts him off and finally pushes away. "Everything that we did was based on you and Peter's dreams! On your feelings! Why are you acting like I'd lie to you?"

"Because you're acting like a psychopath!" He bursts out. "You're pulling knives on people and I just found you drowning yourself!"

"The human body is incapable of intentionally drowning itself without assistance," she says matter-of-factly.

"And you're running around with the Feds- sneaking out- going God knows where at night-"

"Are you spying on me?" She accuses. "I'm an adult, I don't have to sneak out of anywhere."

"No, but I have this little thing called a security system. It's here to keep people out, the same people who tried to kill you, you know? The whole reason you're here."

"I'm going to go home," she decides suddenly and aloud. "I can feel it in you, that's what you want."

"Em-"

"You are too afraid to tell me yourself. You think I might get killed if I leave, but you think I might kill her if I stay," she says as he falls silent. Emma's face stays solid the entire time she speaks as if reading aloud. "You don't love her but you want to and for the life of me I can't figure out why."

"You're exhausted," he says, more for himself than for her. Yes, that's it. She's exhausted and stressed, that's why she's doing these things. He tries to reason with himself. "You need to rest and eat something."

"I'm not tired," she lies. She is tired, but that's not the problem. "I'm going to go back home," she tells him one last time. One last opportunity to tell her no. One last chance to believe her warnings.

"If that's what you want," he responds quietly. Emma stands and pulls her towel around her, ignoring the pool of water that's left in the bathroom.

She packs as quickly as possible. She's finishing up when there's knock at her door. "Come in!"

"So..." Peter starts as he closes the door. "Are you like a serial killer now?" He tries to lighten the mood.

"I haven't- I've only killed one person." She shakes her head.

"Are you going to your moms?" He motions to her bags.

"I don't know," she rambles. "Home- a hotel- away... I don't know. I can't be here."

"You can't just go off on your own, it's not safe."

"And this is safe?" She scoffs weakly. "I'm a safety hazard for everyone here. Myself included."

"That's not true."

"It is though, Peter." She tosses the contents of her drawer into a duffle bag. "Destiny said it herself, this doesn't involve me. You don't need me here for this. For some reason, she is necessary for this."

"You're our connection to Finn," he tries to argue. Emma shakes her head to that as well.

"I'll give you his number. His concern is the case, not what happens between me and my friends." She slings her duffle bag over her shoulder, ready to leave this house and this conversation.

"Em," he stops her before she gets out the door. "Stay safe out there. It'll be over soon."

.....

Most days Emma lays in bed and sleeps, only getting up for her childcare duties. At night she paces her room with so many thoughts in the air that she can't catch one. Really, it had only been three days since she'd come home, but it felt like a month. If her mother noticed that she had been gone she doesn't mention it. For the first time in a while, she starts making preparations to go back to school.

Roman's alarm wakes him up after only a few hours of sleep. He'd spent most of the night with his head in the toilet, vomiting the chunks and stringy remains of Pryce's solution. Roman hopes that this is a sign that his treatment is working. The thirst was still there, but at least his body was rejecting it. Well, rejecting it more than normal.

He had broken down the weekend before and killed some drunk guy stammering down the street. He had gone out for a beer for some well deserved alone time. Even at his own house, it seemed there was always someone around. There was never silence.

Roman justifies his little snack as being beneficial for the world. The guy had been kicked out of the bar after he had gotten quite handsy with a girl. After repeated denials and pushes away, a bartender finally kicked him out. The guy doesn't go without a fight, yelling demeaning slurs to the girl the whole way.

He finishes his beer before he allows his senses to take over. He is what he is.

But that, he reminds himself, is exactly why he has to get out of bed. Every treatment, every second of blinding pain, is to stop him. It will make him better.

He hears a noise coming from the end of the hall where Nadia's first door is open. He continues past the stairs and through both of the doors. The small windows keep the room surprisingly lit.

"I don't understand," Miranda says as she bounces with the sleeping baby. "How are you not angry."

"I am," Roman defends himself.

"No you're not," Miranda says. "You're upset, but you're not angry. Forget me, what about her?" She glances down at Nadia. "What if something had happened to her?"

"Emma wouldn't-"

"How do you know?" Miranda cries out. "A week ago you would have said that she wouldn't put a knife to my neck."

"Everything's safe now," he assures her.

"I told you that after Destiny's-"

"You're still here, right?" He starts to snap but holds himself back for the sake of the sleeping baby. "You're here, she is not here. What more can I do? I don't know what's going on. I don't know why that happened. All I can do is make sure it doesn't happen again." Miranda stares at him silently.

"I just-" Miranda hesitates. "I just worry because I- I love Nadia. I really do. And I love you."

Roman's throat grows tight and he's sure his stomach is laying on the floor. Sirens go off in his mind reminding him that he has to say something. Luckily, Miranda embraces him in a hug before he has to speak. He pats her back slowly before excusing himself.

He doesn't know how he managed to get himself out of that situation, but he has never been so excited to get needles shoved in his eyes before.

It is a genuine surprise when Destiny knocks on her door that morning. Well, it's closer to noon, but it's all the same. Emma joins Destiny on the porch, closing the door behind her. "Hey?" She asks.

"You look like shit," Destiny says back.

"The similarities between you and your cousin are striking, you know?"

"I am aware," Destiny says with a small smirk.

"Is something going on?" Emma asks in the silence. The two of them haven't been around each other since grand reveal to Miranda. Emma hadn't really expected to see Destiny in a one-on-one situation again. She had sided with a stranger over her. It seems that everyone has been doing that recently.

"Yeah, Peter asked me to come by. He's freaked out." Destiny grimaces. "And that takes quite a bit. He turns into a wolf, you know?"

"I know," Emma says, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Look, I get it," Destiny gives her a sympathetic laugh. "I've had my fair share of people I've wanted to kill. That girl included."

"It's not like-" Emma starts but Destiny puts a hand up.

"But I don't because I have _some _willpower," she jokes in a feeble attempt to lighten the mood. "You don't because that's not who you are. Trust me, I've met a lot of killers- not even counting Peter and that shit bag, and whatever's going on inside that head of yours isn't you."

"I don't know what-"

"You are the energy you put into the world. There are rules to these things, like for Peter-"

"What things?" Emma asks abruptly.

"I could feel it the moment I knocked on your door." Destiny nods towards it. "I don't know how you know how to do these things but you. This is why people spend years studying and training before they do even attempt a minor spell. You've bypassed everything and went straight to the most powerful substance."

Emma resists the urge to roll her eyes. It wasn't like she had planned anything. Or really believed it would or had worked. "Blood is the psychical embodiment of your life. You're using your fear to feed it. That's why you're paranoid and hostile."

"So you're telling me I'm being _crazy _because of that?"

"It's draining you. Look at yourself." Destiny looks her up and down.

"It's just a gut reaction," she sighs. "I do things that feel right. I don't even know that I believe in this shit, Destiny. All I know if so far my mom's been safe. I'm not hurting anyone, I'm just exploring every single route."

"And what happens when it's not enough?" Destiny asks. "When you need to use another living thing?"

"That's... silly."

"Even with blood, a simple protection spell won't take that much from you. Remember I've been practicing this shit my whole life, I know a thing or two. I can see that you're doing something else-" Destiny is cut off by her phone ringing. "Hello?"

The other line is muffled but the tone is clear. It's frantic and important. That tone is confirmed by Destiny's response. _"Oh! Is he okay? What happened? Oh god." _Hanging up the phone, Destiny runs to her car.

"What's going on?" Emma chases after her.

"Peter's hurt," Destiny calls over her shoulder.

"What happened?"

"The dumb fucking idiot is trying to get himself killed!" She shouts. Emma watches her unlock her car door and open. "If you're coming, get in!" She demands. The door is still closing when Destiny swerves out of the driveway and speeds down the road.

"What happened to him?"

"He keeps changing on the wrong moon." Destiny shakes her head, angry. "He's going to get himself fucking killed. Between him, and you, and Roman, and the other one- I'm going to have a goddamn aneurism."

When they arrive they arrive Peter is on the couch with bloodstains on his clothing. Miranda sits next to him with a rag and takes a sigh of relief when they get there. "It's not as bad as it looks, I promise," Peter says.

"Shut the fuck up," Destiny snarls and kneels in front of him. "I don't want to hear it."

"Where's Roman?" Emma asks Peter.

"He went to the tower," she hears Miranda answer for him.

"Have you called him?"

"Yes," she replies indignantly. "He isn't answering."

"Oh, Peter," Destiny groans as she looks him over.

"It's not that b-" He stops to groan in pain.

"We need to get him to a hospital," Miranda says quickly.

"No!" The three others answer at the same time.

"Look at him!" Miranda points to his injuries. "He needs stitches!"

"We can't take him to a hospital," Destiny stops her. "He'll heal, he just needs time."

"I'll be fine," he agrees.

"You have to stop," Destiny says to him gently. "You know what will happen if you keep changing against the moon."

"I know," Peter says, annoyed.

"If you don't stop," Destiny says more sternly. "I will have to get you help. Because you're on a suicide mission right now, and I won't stand by and watch."

Emma steps aside to try and call Roman. It's useless, she knows. It's Saturday, and that means he's getting his treatment. Or whatever experiment it is that Pryce is doing. It goes straight to voicemail. She's walking back towards the group when it starts. They hear the window shatter before they see it. An arrow has landed in the arm of the couch.

No one knows where is safe. Peter pushes Miranda out of the way with only a second to spare. Emma finds herself ducking behind the couch and frantically searching for an escape route. She can't even find out where to escape to.

"What the fuck is happening?" Miranda yells.

"Go to the babies room!" Peter yells. She takes off up the stairs, somehow making it past the masked intruders. Destiny follows after with her knife open. "Lock yourselves in!"

At the door, the shadows of other assassins get closer. Peering over the couch to Peter, she seems him narrowly dodge an arrow that flies in through the broken window. Her own yelp at the sound of the arrow colliding with the wall scares her. Peter quickly runs forward to pull it from the wall.

Emma finally crawls around the corner of the couch. They lock eyes just before the front windows shatter open. At the noise, they share a nod before running to the next hiding. Emma manages to make it to the kitchen island where she watches Peter hiding behind a wall.

When the men enter they disperse. One follows the path Peter had taken into the garage. She hears an unfamiliar scream and sees the rest of the men chase after it. When all of their backs are turned she makes a run for the stairs. The distinct sound of bones cracking and flesh splitting echoes through the house.

Emma hadn't seen anyone go upstairs, but there they were. Two of the invaders stand at the door to Nadia's room hacking away at the lock.

They both catch a glimpse of her. She stands still like a dear in headlights. One suddenly moves forward, and she turns on her heels. _The balcony_, she thinks. All she has to do is get to Roman's room and jump from the balcony. _Then what? _Her mind races as she bolts to the door. She doesn't have her car keys and even if there aren't more outside she can't outrun them.

It's the only option she has.

Emma doesn't bother with shutting Roman's locking door behind her, there's no time for that. Her hand is reaching for the balcony door when an arrow flies past her head. Instinctively, she drops to the floor.

Crawling backward, she stares up at the figure above her. He has his boy pointed back at her. His fingers twitch and her breath hitches in her throat. _CLUNK_. The bow is tossed to the carpeted ground.

"I'm not going to kill you," he assures her. "You're just going to take a little nap." He pulls her by her ankle closer and leans over her. His hands are covered by tight leather gloves. They're surprisingly cold against her throat. Even in the panic of choking for breath, the coldness stands out as one of the remaining feelings. As her feet and hands start to go numb she can still feel them.

It's getting harder to fight. Her hands keep pushing at his lock wrists but they make no difference. When weight is suddenly dropped on her she closes her eyes. When she remains conscious and feels her throat free she opens them. Roman stands behind where the man had been with a bloody ax in his hands.

"Where's Miranda and the baby?" He asks frantically.

"In the room," she says between breaths.

"Get them out of here!" He yells before leaving.

Emma lets out a long, dry, coughing spell before pushing the body off of her. "I'll get right on that," she says to no one. She can't bring herself to do what Roman has said. Not immediately anyway. Between deep breaths, her mind speeds through the question of whether it's worth it or not. Would Nadia being killed really be that bad?

When she realizes that she's even questioning that she forces herself up. What a horrible thing to think. How could she possibly think such a thing?

By the time she gets to the door, it's already been broken through. In the first room, Destiny is fighting with one of the men. Another lays dead on the floor. She's not very strong, but she manages to fight the man long enough for Destiny to get a good cut to the throat in.

She notices the door into the second is slightly ajar. Destiny takes a breath and looks between her and the door. "I'm going to find Peter."

"You're going to get killed!" Emma calls out even though she knows Destiny's mind is made. "Oh, goddamnit!" She groans and goes into the next room. Closing the door behind her, she hears an array of locks click into place. In front of the crib, Miranda cradles the baby.

Nadia seems stunningly calm despite the hysteria that's going on around her. For a brief moment, Emma and Miranda share a look of solidarity. It's ruined by the electronic sound of the keypad outside. Both hope that it's someone coming to say it's safe to come out. Both know that it's not.

Still lightheaded from her own attack, it doesn't take much more than a push to have her flat on her ass. Hazily, she hears Miranda begging him to not hurt the baby. He kicks her back to the wall. Emma wishes that the circumstances were different so she could enjoy that moment.

It's helpless. No one can stop him. He takes off his mask and pulls a knife from his belt. But then Nadia stares up at the man and he falls. Blood drips from every opening on his face. Miranda crawls forward to grab Nadia and holds her. After what feels like a lifetime, Roman appears at the door still holding his ax. He drops it on the floor and rushes forward. Miranda stands to meet him and he takes Nadia from her arms.

"I love you so much," he says to his daughter. His face is covered with blood, but Nadia doesn't mind. She reaches forward towards his face.

"She loves you too," Miranda says. She rubs her hand gently along Nadia's back. "You're her father."

Before this moment goes on any longer, there's a low growl coming from outside the room. Destiny backs in slowly. Peter follows in behind her, but Peter seems to be gone. He doesn't do this. He would never act hostile towards Destiny. "Why isn't he changing back?" Roman asks.

"He can't," Destiny says in a calm voice. The wolf snarls at the noise, its teeth stained red.

"Stand back," Roman says and hands Nadia to Miranda. He slowly makes his way in front of Destiny.

"Please, Peter," Destiny says with her voice cracking. Tears come down her cheeks without acknowledgment.

"Peter," Roman says and he crouches forward to make eye contact with the wolf. "It's me."

It lunges forward so quickly that Emma barely believes her eyes. Roman has managed to grab the top and bottom of the wolf's mouth. He pulls them apart, ligaments tearing and bone splitting loudly. "You're killing him!" Destiny yells

Roman continues until its head is split into two. He reaches his hand into the beast's belly and grabs ahold of something. He pulls Peter's arm until he's free. He falls to the ground, covered in blood and his other forms guts. He shivers awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi friends!!! I hope you like this chapter! There's only two left which is beyond insane to me!!!!  
While I was in quarantine and procrastinating I made some meme's for my own fanfiction. I know that is super lame, but I did it and I can't take it back now. For your viewing pleasure: https://eliaelliot.tumblr.com/post/614251460793925632/in-honor-of-me-forcing-myself-to-finish-writing
> 
> Anyways, here is my Mom rant filled with things I wish someone had told me weeks ago:  
I hope everyone is staying safe. I know this probably goes without being said, but shit is absolutely insane right now. I'm sure many of you are in the same or similar boat as me with work. I'm currently unemployed for the foreseeable future which is really fucking weird to think about. I'm from the states where there is no safety net program at all. Luckily LA has been more proactive than a lot of places in assistance and stay at home orders. If you're located somewhere where that is not the case please try to stay safe.   
If you haven't lost your job but think it is a possibility go ahead and get your paperwork in order to file for unemployment. Make sure you qualify for Government assistance because there are a lot of flaws in the plan where people are slipping through. If you're a recent Uni graduate like me, you will not get anything. Your parents will also get nothing for you. Plan for that. Depending on your work history, freelance, school, etc. you may not qualify for unemployment- like me.   
So basically if you haven't already started thinking about these things, please do. Check on your family and friends and make sure they have a plan. 
> 
> Much love.


	29. Prisoner

All they can do is wait. Peter's breathing has found a steady pace and he has stopped shivering. Destiny and Roman had worked quickly to get the larger clots of blood off of him and move him to a bed. Sheets and comforter damned, that's a problem for another time.

No one can help. That's what Destiny says. Not anyone she knew of anyway. 

When he finally gasps awake all eyes are on him. "It's over," he struggles to get out.

"Yeah," Roman says and sits on the edge of the bed. "It's over for now."

"You think there's more out there?" Peter asks.

"I know it."

......

Emma stands aside and lets Roman, Peter, and Destiny handle damage control. There are only a handful of rooms that are completely free of blood. Miranda has excused herself to care for Nadia. Emma's sure she's in Roman's room, even though her own room was left untouched.

"Em," Peter's voice calls out. "Em?"

"Hm?" She pulls herself from her thoughts.

"Can you call Finn?"

"Sure." Emma stands and tries to remember where she last had her phone. The living room is absolutely destroyed. Couch cushions astray, broken tables, it's all ruined.

"Why do we need him?" Roman asks skeptically. "We took care of it."

"He probably can do something with the bodies," Peter explains. 

"I've gotten rid of a body or two," Roman grumbles to himself. He shuffles his feet awkwardly. It felt like one problem after another. And 'problem' was an understatement. 

He's barely taken the time to look around his house. It's in an absolute state of disaster. The clean walls are littered with traces of blood. The furniture is either full of arrows or is broken from the fight. Then, there's the group of people sitting and waiting for some direction. 

Roman feels truly like the nineteen-year-old kid he is. He's in over his head. How could everything have gone so wrong so quickly. It was only a few months ago he had been wasted at the beach, and now there's this. 

Peter senses Roman's discomfort and decides to pull the heat from him. "Go ahead a call," he tells Emma. "We need to get some tarps, and some bleach, and sponges..." Peter stands and begins digging through the kitchen. 

"I'll run to the store," Destiny offers. "I think we're going to need a lot."

"Don't buy it all from one store," Roman tells her quietly. "It will look like-"

"Like I'm cleaning up dead bodies," Destiny finishes for him.

Finn arrives before Destiny returns. He's dressed in what could liberally be called his work uniform. Really it's just a leather jacket with a badge but it makes a statement. Even though the entire front door is smashed in, Emma still goes to 'let him in.' He looks at the state of the home with a subtle amount of amusement. He loves his job.

"Are you okay?" He asks her, looking her over. She's seen herself in the bathroom mirror. It looks worse than it is. Darker, more visible bruises are messily distributed on her neck and chin. 

"Yeah, I'm fine," she says.

"You remember everything fine?" He asks. Emma takes this as a question about her injury, but another person in the room takes it very personally. 

"Yep," she says. "Let's get cleaning up."

"Well," Finn says with his hands in his pockets. He walks further into the house and looks the room over again. "I don't think I have enough room in my Subaru for this." Emma chuckles nervously, but no one else seems to find it funny. Roman remains silent with his lips pursed. His eyes look at the other man like he's an intruder. 

"There's a few more upstairs," Peter tells him.

"What about your guys in DC?" Emma asks. "Can't they help?"

"Already headed this way." Finn leans against the back of the couch. "The problem is that we have to meet them."

"Why can't they come here?" Roman asks.

"I prefer to keep private residences off their map. They don't need to know whose house it happened at and with all of you... I think it's best you stay away from any form of a radar. No offense."

"None taken," Peter says.

"There are tons of vans at the tower," Roman says. "They're unmarked, we can take one."

"Perfect," Finn says.

"Let's divide and conquer. We need to get the walls clean... The furniture..." Roman takes a deep breath and shakes it off. "Emma and I will go grab the vans."

"I can go," Peter offers.

"No, you stay here, rest." 

Normally she would reject this order, but with everyone around, she just can't. The thought won't even cross her mind.

"How uh- how do you feel?" He asks awkwardly. They'd spent the first half of their ride in silence and it's obvious he's been trying to break it.

"I'm fine, thank you." She glances over from her seat then back to the road. 

"You sound a bit hoarse."

"I think that's normal." She fidgets with her hands.  _ I really don't know how to act around you. I don't know what to say to you when it's quiet. I'm worried that I never will. _

"You didn't come earlier?" His voice sounds shy. She thinks about it for a minute. She had been at his house all day.

"Huh?" 

"To my appointment," he clarifies. "You always come."

"Oh," she says questioningly. "I didn't think you'd want me there." He doesn't reply. The return to silence is almost as bad as the conversation.Both are equally thankful when they can separate into different cars.

The bodies take longer to move than she anticipated. Even with Peter, Finn, and Roman it proved to be a challenge. No one seems to realize how heavy a dead body is until they're stuffing them in a van. Every so often either Peter or Roman will stop long enough to take a swig of whiskey, then they get right back to it. When they finally leave for the drop off a weight is lifted off the room. The most obvious problem is gone.

Emma looks up from her freshly bleached portion of the floor. She'd been working on it for God knows how long. She should really talk to Roman about getting rid of the small carpeted area in the living room. The wood floor had been such an easy clean. 

Destiny is moving all blood-stained textiles onto a tarp. They'd decided pretty quickly that those weren't salvageable. Bedding, pillows, rugs- they all pile up so quickly. On the other side of the carpet, Miranda is still scrubbing away. Only a small splotch is cleared. Emma takes a deep breath before doing the right thing.

"You're almost as bad at cleaning as Roman," She says. "He's tragically bad at basic life skills." She kneels and pours the last of the bleach on the floor, then tosses the bottle towards the trash pile. "He just learned how mashed potatoes are made... He still can't make them."

Emma decides that if Miranda is going to be staying around for a while she should try to make it civil. That's the only way that this situation could become bearable. Or, at least bearable until she figures out a better plan. "I've known Roman my entire life," Emma says quietly, not wanting Destiny to overhear her. "Shit's really... Weird is an understatement. Like this?" She motions to the mess around them. "This is nothing in comparison. Got it? So, saying that I'm in love with Roman couldn't be further from the truth. I wish it was that simple, but it's not."

Miranda looks up, face blotchy and damp from fresh tears, and shudders. "I hate you," she says. "I hate all of you. We'll be lucky if we don't spend the rest of our lives in jail." Miranda throws her rag to the ground and stands. 

"Duly noted," Emma murmurs and continues scrubbing at the floor. Miranda paces for a few minutes before sitting on the couch. Her sniffles echo in the empty room. 

Emma's cleared a decent portion of it when the group of guys comes back inside. Miranda stands to greet them. Roman takes off his plastic gloves and puts them on the pole of stained trash. They're stained with drying blood. "Where's Nadia?" He asks. 

"Upstairs in your room," Destiny answers. 

"I want to go home," Miranda says and approaches Roman quickly. "I want to go home."

"Hey, hey," he says calmingly. He places his clean hands on her forearms and rubs them gently. "It's okay. Everything is okay. You're okay."

"No, it's not!" She panics. "She killed him. She just stared at him and killed him."

"He'd been fighting and running around," he tells her. "He probably had an aneurism or something."

They all watch as, much to Emma's surprise, Miranda pushes Roman's hands-off. "You lied to me!" She accuses. "You all lied to me."

"Mi-"

"I watched you turn into a wild animal," she says looking at Peter. Turning back to Roman she wipes her face with her sleeve. "And you- you- I don't even know what you are."

"We told-" Peter tries.

"I saw you die. I helped kill you," she says to Destiny. Her mouth quivers before looking at Emma. "And I don't even know what's wrong with you. Then this happens... And you're all acting like it's okay...You're all monsters."

"What happened?" Emma asks sharply. "What part of this were you not prepared for? You knew from the beginning."

"Enough!" Peter stops her. His face softens when he starts speaking to Miranda. "Everything is okay. We're alive, we're safe."

"For now!" Miranda yells. "What about when they come back?"

"We'll take care of it," he tries to assure her.

"I want to go home," she chokes out. 

Peter and Roman share a look. At the same time, Emma meets Finn's eye line. He had been standing quietly near the door for this whole interaction. Both of the boys are struggling to find out what to say. Emma is resisting the urge to tell her to go home. No one so much as breathes during the silence.

"You can't go," Roman says gently. "We need you. Nadia needs you."

"Let's just... sit down and relax," Peter suggests. "We can take a minute." Miranda hesitantly nods.

"Why don't you lie down?" Roman asks. He puts his hand softly on her lower back and walks her to the couch. Emma returns to her cleaning and refuses to look up. 

"I'll get you some tea," Destiny offers.

Emma can't wrap her mind around why everyone bent over backward to make Miranda feel better? No one had done that for her. If anything, they had taken advantage of her.  _ What a baby _ . She avoids looking at them by returning her attention to the floor.  _ What a big fucking baby. Where was this kind side of everyone when I needed it? _

She takes a deep breath and shakes it out of her mind. She didn't need anyone to take care of her, or treat her like glass. She was a grown woman for fuck's sake! Miranda should be embarrassed at her behavior. Of course, any normal person would say that Miranda was reacting as she should. 

When she looks back up the to room, Miranda is almost asleep and Finn must have seen himself out. Destiny, Peter, and Roman stand around the kitchen island. They speak in hushed voices, either to not disturb Miranda or to keep Emma from hearing. It doesn't matter which it is. 

This isn't her house, this isn't her family, they aren't her friends. This isn't her problem. Yet here she is, on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor. She drops the rag and decides to leave. Either no one notices or no one stops her.

In the driveway, Finn stands outside his car smoking. "You leaving?" He asks. She nods and keeps walking. "I'll give you a ride home. You look suspicious, and suspicious is an understatement." She thanks him and gets in.

"So," Finn says once they're on the road. "Are they both in love with her or?"

"Your guess is as good as my own." She smiles pathetically to the floorboard.

"Peter seems nice."

"Yeah. He's a pretty good guy," Emma confirms.

"I'm curious," he says cautiously. "Never mind."

"No!" She turns to him. "You can't start and not finish!"

"I... I guess I'm just curious why anyone would be interested in Roman while Peter's there," he finally says.

"I couldn't tell you. I think the money plays a factor for sure. He attracts the wrong girls," she laughs and plays dumb. She knows that what he's really asking is specific to her. "I had a crush on Peter when he first moved here."

"I'm guessing it went away?"

"Yeah," she confirms. "Over time. You know about Peter and Roman's cousin. I think that's probably the first time he knew someone long enough to have feelings for them. He didn't love her," she thinks aloud. "He was 17 and the good guy who was going to raise the baby."

"Why do you say that."

"If he loved Letha he wouldn't let that girl near her baby." She genuinely believes that. "He doesn't know Letha at all." When Finn doesn't reply she carries on. "Roman loved her, he did. He's just selfish and stupid. He'd throw anyone under the bus to get what he wants."

"You know that, and you still-"

"What is this?" She nervously jokes. "Therapy? It's none of your business!"

"And yet you still want to tell me."

"Let's talk about you then! I barely know anything about you!"

"There's not much to know," he answers calmly. "You've seen that I live alone, I travel alone, and I have for a long time. My job is my life."

"That's a sad life."

"Sometimes," he concedes.

"Then why do you do it?"

"When I was a kid," he says. "I was seven... My brother started acting very strange. There was nothing physically wrong with him, but he didn't want to be touched. He was angry, and screamed, and wouldn't stop eating. We didn't know what that meant, most people don't. We don't have any traces of another species in our family, we are thoroughbred humans. A woman from our church, she had to be pushing a hundred... She recognized what was happening and how to stop it."

"A changeling?"

"Very good," he nods. "There are clearly groups of religious fanatics that feel a certain way about those things. Some wait until a threat is present, like Clementine Chasseur, others take no risks. Then there are some people who do the right thing. I want to be one that does the right thing."

"What else is there?" She asks. "What other things?"

"I don't know myself. But I'd like to find out," he answers. "Does that answer your question."

"I guess so." Emma glances out her window and watches few trees go by. They're beginning to bloom. She hadn't noticed before. "What are you going to do when this is over?"

"Go home for a while, I suppose. I'm excited to cook my own food again." Finn smiles a bit thinking of his small, empty apartment. "What about you? Go back to school."

"Yeah," Emma says before she sits up straight and furrows her brow. She'd planned on returning to school, that had always been the plan, but she hadn't thought about how. It all depended on whether not her fake scholarship still existed. "I'm going to try."

"It will be safe by then," he assures her. 

......

Roman isn't sure that he'll ever sleep again. He spends the rest of the day walking around with Nadia, when he can get her away from Miranda, in his arms. He had known the threat was out there but he never truly expected it would come to his home. He had almost lost her. Like Letha.

There's so much to do. He needs the front door replaced, windows, locks... Luckily, he has the money to get it done quickly. However, even when everything is fixed, the home still feels wrong. He double checks every entry point to make sure it is bulletproof. It feels as safe as it can while there are still some of them out there. He wants everyone to stay inside the house. He can keep it locked down like a fortress.

Roman doesn't know how long he's been awake when he falls asleep. At least a day straight. He sleeps for a long time too, only to be awoken by the redundant sound of his phone ringing. "Hello?" He answers.

"Roman," Pryce's voice comes across clear. "It is Monday and you are nowhere to be found."

"What do you want?" He asks, too exhausted to show his anger.

"Your sister has requested your presence." Roman sits up quickly. "She is very excited to show you the progress we have made with her new body."

"Progress?" Roman asks. He sits up and stretches a bit.

"Yes. I want it to be in pristine condition for Shelley. Speaking, walking... It's adapting very well actually."

"Um, yeah," he says sounding uncomfortable at the thought. "Tell her I'll come by soon."

......

Roman calls Peter again for the 17th time. Hell, he even tries Destiny but gets no answer. Desperate times call for desperate measures. He's unsure about what he does, but Emma always comes when beckoned. This wouldn't be an exception. One text and she's on her way.

"What do you need?" She asks before his front is fully open.

"I need a favor." He waves her in. She follows behind him.

"I know. What is it?"

"I have to go to the tower," Roman says. 

"What for?" She asks skeptically.

"Some business stuff."

"Why are you lying to me?"

"What do you mean?"

"You wouldn't leave her here alone for work." Neither knows if she means Nadia or Miranda. "Not after all that."

"That's my favor." Emma is shaking her head before he finishes. "Can you keep an eye on everything?"

"I'm not going to sit around and play babysitter with you. I've already saved that kids life once-"

"You didn't save her life."

"No, you're right. I prevented it from going that far because your dumb fuck girlfriend is a dumb fuck." Emma raises her eyebrows. "Where's Peter? Can't he babysit?"

"I don't know," Roman admits. "He's not answering and neither is Destiny."

"What's going on?" She pushes.

"I told you, it's just work stuff."

"No, it's not. You don't care about your job that much," she says. "You would never leave me alone with her unless you were desperate."

"Exactly," he huffs. "It's very important."

"Alright." She seems to accept that. Saying no was just too hard.

"Alright?" He quirks his head. "You'll do it?"

"I guess so." Emma rolls her eyes and moves to sit on the couch. "Go do whatever totally normal, important  _ work _ thing you have to do."

"Thank you," he says. Roman grabs his jacket but stops himself. He spits it out before he can convince himself to no. "Actually, you should come with me." He succumbs.

"Why?" She asks suspiciously. 

"Because you're right. I am lying." He avoids eye contact. 

"What's the catch?"

"Nothing," he says. "I just think you deserve to know."

"Okay." She's confused about the sudden burst of honesty.

"I'll get Nadia," he says then bites his lip. "What do I need to bring?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Like what do babies need? I know diapers but..."

"I don't know." Emma shrugs. "Ask Anna, I don't anything about babies." Roman nods and heads upstairs. Emma stands from her spot on the couch and to the refrigerator. 

She looks at the postnatal shake Miranda has pre-made in the fridge. The sight of it turns her stomach upside down and runs a shiver down her spine. What could this doctor be giving her? All the while Emma had been weirded out by it she had never truly considered the science behind it. Along with that, what kind of doctor would encourage a stranger to breastfeed a strangers child? Probably the kind suggested by the father of the baby who he is fine with a stranger feeding.

Sure, in the old days wet nurses were common, but Miranda wasn't a wet nurse. She was a woman who had begun lactating unnaturally- before she even knew Nadia existed. Looking to the shelf below, she sees the small bottle of Roman's mixture. She'd seen the pink and red substance before, but only a few times. Roman tried to keep that aspect of his life hidden from everyone.

Curious, he dips her finger into the thick liquid and brings it to her mouth. The moment the mixture touches her tongue everything goes dark. Emma doesn't realize it until Roman is grabbing her shoulder and saying her name. "Huh?"

"You good?"

"Yeah, just got zoned I guess." She shakes her head. "I wanted some water."

......

"Hey, Shelley," Roman greets her with a smile. He closes the door slowly behind him and takes a seat on her bed.

"Roman!" She beams. "I want you to meet... Well, I guess to see my new body. Pryce calls her Prycilla." Roman laughs at that.

"I have someone I want you to meet too," Roman says. His stomach turns upside down. Shelley will see right through him when she meets Nadia. She'll know what he did. "Do you mind if we do that first?"

"Sure!" Shelley agrees. She's just happy that he's sharing a part of his life with her. He had been so quiet. "Is it a girl?"

"Kinda," he chuckles sadly. "Emma is here with me as well." He watches as Shelley's face, to the best of its ability, contours into confusion. "She doesn't know that you're back. I haven't told her yet."

"Oh," she says. "I thought you had." Roman shakes his head gently.

"I'm sorry," he says sincerely. "But things have been complicated out there, to say the least."

"What's going on?"

"It's not for you to worry about. You have enough going on as is."

"I wish you would talk to me." Shelley picks at her white hospital blanket.

"I know." Roman reaches forward to touch her cheek. "And one day I will, I promise. but, for now, I need you to trust me."

"Okay," Shelley agrees hesitantly.

"Emma can't know about your procedure."

"Why?"

"Please," Roman says. "Please just trust me, Shell."

"Okay, Roman," she agrees. "But you have to tell me sometime."

"I will." He smiles affectionately. "And I'll come back later today and I can meet... Prycilla."

"Promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die." Roman looks at the door, then back to his sister. It's now or never.

He shuts the door behind him as he leaves. He finds Nadia and Emma down the hallway where he left them. Emma holds the baby a minimum of two feet away from her and stares at it intensely. The small human is easy to break.

"Okay," Roman interrupts the stare. "You can come now." He holds his arms out for Nadia, which she gladly hands over. He doesn't look exactly confidant himself, but he's working on it. He leads her back to the door to Shelley's room. He hesitates opening it. "So," he says with one hand on the door. "Shelley came back."

"Back?" Emma quirks her head. 'Back' like Olivia came back, or back in a normal sense? She supposes it doesn't matter that much either way. Opening the door, she's surprised to see the physical transformation the girl has had over the past year. Her voice stuns her even more.

"It's good to see you!" Shelley says. Emma finds her voice fitting. It's sweet and almost childlike. She sounds like the little sister that always complained about not wanting to get in trouble, and that's who she was.

"It's- it's good to see you too," Emma struggles out. Shelley's eyes slowly make their way towards Roman where she sees him holding a baby. She can't quite process what she's seeing and it shows.

"This is Nadia," Roman says. "This is Letha's daughter."

"She looks just like Letha," Shelley comments.

"She'll be thankful for that later in life," Roman laughs and brings her closer. Nadia smiles and giggles at Shelley, excited to meet a new person. The baby isn't scared of her. Children are always terrified of her. They stay until both Nadia and Shelley are exhausted.

"How long has she been back?" Emma asks once buckled. She sits in the passenger seat and awkwardly balances Nadia in her lap.

"A few weeks."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was going to," he defends himself. "I really was."

"Did you forget?"

"When I was going to tell you you weren't at the house. I was going to tell you when you got back but I just... didn't."

"Thank you for telling me," she says after a moment. She wishes he had told her, but he didn't have to. She reasons with herself to not get angry. Under normal circumstances, she could be angry. But in normal circumstances, this would never happen. Shelley was his sister, after all, he didn't have to tell anyone anything about her. And it doesn't seem like he has.

"I have to go on Saturday- to my appointment."

"Okay," Emma says.

"Do you want to come?" He asks timidly.

"I can," Emma says. They're a few miles down the road when she makes a realization. "You really should get her a car seat."

......

Roman works from home for most of the week. It turns out that Nadia is a great coworker. Plus, it helps that she sleeps most of the day. Scary as it is to think about, it lingers on his mind that Nadia would one day take his job at the tower. Or ideally, she would. He pushes the thoughts of her getting older back. Nadia getting older means he has to prepare himself for what she truly is- what they are.

He's also hauling ass in trying to make Miranda feel safe again. It's difficult, she had dealt with a lot in the last week alone. He tries to be patient and understanding, but  _ goddamn  _ if she isn't annoying him. Sometimes he wants to tell her just to leave.

Roman forces himself to stop thinking that way. He needs to be more sympathetic. That's the honorable thing to do. Roman Godfrey was not by any standards and honorable man, but maybe it's time to change that. Maybe it is time for him to grow up. Maybe that is the real reason Miranda showed up at his door. He's never seen a functioning adult relationship in real life. Plus, sometime's it's nice that she's there.

The week flies by, and before he knows it, it's Saturday morning. He tries giving Peter a call. It's no surprise when there's no answer. Peter had been pretty much MIA for two days. Roman assumes he's staying with Destiny and tries to not worry about him.

He keeps calling until it's time for him to leave. He sends texts the whole time Emma is driving him to the tower. He sends another text when they're inside. 

They go straight through security and deep into the building. A nurse catches him as they get closer to Pryce's office. "Mr. Godfrey," she pants as she runs to him. "Dr. Pryce is running a bit behind. He sent me to tell you that it's a simple machinery issue but not to worry. It's for a different project but it demands immediate attention." Roman nods. "He said it wouldn't take long."

"I want to see him," Roman says.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Godfrey, he's unable to speak directly with you," the nurse explains.

"It's my company," Roman scoffs. Emma pulls jacket his sleeve to tell him to stop, that he's being rude.

"I'm sorry. It's his orders."

"Alright," he says, fighting back his annoyance. "I'll wait."

"Should we go to your office?" Emma asks looking around at the empty hallway.

"No, I want to start as soon as Pryce is done. "There's some seats this way."

They sit in creaky plastic chairs. Roman seems unimpressed by them like he will demand they be replaced soon. There's nothing to talk about. Emma can feel the stress radiating off of him. It's worse than normal, most likely due to the last minute changes. "I gotta make a call," he says loudly and suddenly. Walking a bit down the hall he calls Peter again. Nothing. He's desperate and worried at this point. He decides to try Destiny. 

"Where's Peter?" Roman asks as soon as the call is answered.

"He's asleep," Destiny sighs. "He's being a bit... difficult. The changes are getting to him."

"Changes?" Roman asks. "Did he change again?"

"No," Destiny assures him. "Almost, but he didn't."

"What happened?"

"Long story, drug dealers, guns, the whole ordeal. Everything's fine now."

"Is he going to be okay?"

"If he stops now." Destiny pauses. "Did you need something?"

"I did..." Roman says. "Do you think you could go check on Nadia and Miranda for me?"

"What's going on?"

"I'm at the tower for my appointment and it's just taking longer than it should."

"Okay, yeah," Destiny says. "I can run by."

"Thank you," he says before hanging up."

"How many more of these do you have?" Emma asks nervously as he returns to his seat.

"Pryce thinks four or five..." His leg bounces. "Where is that son of a bitch?"

"I'm sure he'll be here soon," Emma assures him. They sit silently again. The only noise is the air conditioner clicking off and on, and the occasional creak in the pipes. Looking down the hallway one more time, Roman huffs and slides into his chair. "Roman."

"Hm?"

"What am I doing here?" She asks, looking lost.

"I asked you to come to my appointment."

"Yeah," she says like she had been looking for more. "I mean why do you want me here?"

"I don't know," he brushes it off. "I need someone to drive me."

"Roman," she sighs with a long blink. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to have my treatment."

"You know that's not what I mean." She turns her face and tries to catch his eyes but he avoids it.

"Why do you always have to pick a fight?" Roman looks at her. "And right now? You need to do this right now?"

"Do you think this is me picking a fight?" She asks. "If you think asking for you to talk to me is a fight that's your problem."

"Can we  _ talk _ some other time?" He grits his teeth.

"Sure," she huffs. She sits back in her chair but something rises up in her throat and slips out of her mouth. "No, you know what?" She sighs. "Do whatever you want- but don't ask me to babysit your girlfriend because you don't trust her, and don't ask me to come take care of you after your doctor's appointments, or clean blood off of your carpet. You can't chop up the aspects of a relationship and take the ones you like!"

"Jesus fucking Christ," he snorts. "Are you done?" Emma doesn't answer and won't look at him. "You're not exactly a shining beacon of friendship. You did try to stab someone in my house, remember that?"

"I wasn't going to stab her," Emma snickers.

"Afterwards she did say you threatened to 'put her in the ground' a few weeks earlier," he counters.

"And I meant it," she declares. "Someone had to do something. Y'know, I don't understand how you could possibly forgive her for the amount of danger she put _your_ child in."

"Maybe you would get it if you weren't always busy running around with Finn."

"What does that even mean?" She asks.

"We're not in love," he states, battiness quickly turning into anger. "We weren't dating, we were just fucking, so get over it."

"Fuck you," she spits to him. "If you think for one goddamn second that that's what this is about you're an idiot. Do you think I could ever love someone as vain as you? That anyone could?"

"Then please elaborate on why you're so angry?"

"Because I can't stay angry with you!" She bursts. "And you know that! I hate that I'm here right now. I hate that  we keep saying we want things to be normal but you go and fuck it up every time.  I can't just be in half of your life, Roman. I care too much," her voice drops. She doesn't know how he thought this could possibly work. How could he ask for her help while ignoring the one thing she'd been warning him about for months? Emma makes a decision then and there that she can't watch Miranda drain him. Whether emotionally, financially, or mentally- she has to let it go.

"I don't," he starts speaking, but his phone begins ringing. It's Destiny and he can't ignore it. He answers it knowing how much more difficult it will make returning to the conversation. "Hey?" He asks and walks away a bit. He doesn't excuse himself or look to see a reaction.

"Miranda and Nadia aren't here," Destiny tells him. "Anna said she went to the doctor."

"She didn't tell me she had an appointment."

"Apparently she couldn't stop lactating and freaked. I'm sure it's fine."

"I'll text her."

"I can just hang out until she gets back," Destiny offers.

"That would be great. Thank you," Roman says. "I really appreciate everything you've been doing."

"Roman Godfrey saying thank you?" She feigns surprise. "Well, I'll be goddamned."

"I'll take that as a "you're welcome"

"You've done a lot for Peter," she replies.

"Thank you."

Walking back to his chair, something has changed. Emma's skin has drained of all color, and she cradles her left arm in her lap. She doesn't look at him as he approaches. His gut reaction is to ignore it and pick up where he left off. His head can tell something is very wrong. "What's going on?" 

"I'm just not feeling well," she says weakly

"What's wrong?" 

"I don't know," she says. As he gets closer he can see a thin sheen of sweat on her face. "I just don't feel well."

"Here." He stands and offers her a hand up. All previous emotions and tension have evaporated. "Let's get you to my office. You can lay down there. Sound good?"

"Okay," Emma says and nods. Taking her hand, Roman hesitates.

"You're freezing," he observes aloud. She walks closely by him as they head to the nearest elevator. Halfway down the hall, she stops abruptly. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she pants. "I think I'm just going to sit down for a minute." She slides down the wall and to the ground. Roman watches every movement wide-eyed. "I'm thirsty," she says. Her eyes look at him curiously, as if she's already forgotten that she's thirsty. Before he gets the chance to say anything she leans to the side and coughs. The color coming out of her is not natural. Black with thick white and red clots gathering next to each other. 

Roman stares at the horror scene in front of him. She looks like the patient zero of every zombie movie. When she sits her head up straight again, eyes closed and leaning against the wall, panic sets in. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys... It was damn near impossible to explain how everyone ended up where they were... There is zero context about how half the people at the tower ended up at the tower and why anything happened. I guess that's just hemlock grove summed up though. Nothing makes sense and you'll hate the ending, but hey, at least the fan fictions are good.
> 
> Anyways... Thank you so much for the read! I've gotten a lot of new readers in the last week which is really amazing and I appreciate it so so so much. I started writing this series almost a year ago and it feels like it's just been a few weeks. I say this every week, but I am so genuinely thankful to everyone that has stuck around. Please feel free to let me know it critiques you might have. I always appreciate and need them.
> 
> Also, quarantine has reminded me how super thirsty i am for Bill Skarsård, so at least I have that.


	30. Shameless

Roman once again goes to the nurse's station. He leans forward on the counter, close to the brunette with the softest face. "Hi." He smiles at her to cover his anger. It's not her fault.

"Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Godfrey?"

"Yes, actually. Would you mind calling down to Dr. Pryce again?"

"Of course not," she says, happy that this interaction has gone more peacefully than she worried it would. She had heard from her coworkers that Roman tended to have a short fuse, but he had been nothing but pleasant to her. It almost worries her. Picking up the phone, she dials the extension to a level of the building she has never been to. She doesn't even have security access to it.

"And would you tell them to pass a message along to him?" She nods. "Have them tell Pryce that if he's not up here in fifteen minutes he should start packing his office," he says in a hauntingly calm voice. As he finishes speaking the line picks up.

"Hi, this is Amanda up in the general care unit." _Again? _She's careful in her replies. The person on the other side of the line is lucky they're not audible to Roman. "Mhm, yes. I have Mr. Godfrey with me asking for Dr. Pryce." _I'm doing the best I can, I haven't been able to get a response from my pages. _"I know, I know," she says back. Roman nods for her to continue. "Mr. Godfrey would also like you to tell Dr. Pryce that if he isn't here in the next fifteen minutes he should start packing his office." _Jesus Christ. What a maniac. _"Thank you."

"Thank you," he says once the phone is back on the receiver. The nurse, Amanda, smiles at him as he walks away. Once he's facing the other direction she and the other nurse on duty share and a look. Leaning closer to her, the other nurse whispers "I have never been so terrified and turned on at the same time."

Roman opens the heavy door. It shuts with a soft click and he comes to stand in the center of the room. His arms cross dramatically and one foot bounces subtly. "Pryce should be here soon," he tells Emma for the fourth time. He'd spent the majority of the time she'd been here in the hallway harassing the nurses to find Pryce.

She wasn't in a particular rush for the man to arrive. She'd prefer a regular doctor- or any doctor- instead of him. He'd let one doctor in to make sure she was _stable-_ whatever that means. Roman watched the other man like a hawk. He was watching so closely that she became tense for the doctor.

"It's really not that bad," she insists. "You're overreacting."

"It is exactly that bad," he counters. He looks her over for extra emphasis. In her defense, though, Roman himself had seen worse days. Even with a nasal cannula, IV, and various heart monitors, she looked healthier than he had at Christmas.

"I throw up and get nose bleeds all the time," Emma shrugs. "I have for a while. It's kind of my thing."

"Do you regularly cough blood, or is that a recent development?" He asks a bit sharper than he meant. "Because that was far from throwing up and a nose bleed. In fact, neither of those things happened."

"I want to go home," she mumbles and looks down at the blankets. "Besides, the pain medication is making me feel worse."

"What feels worse? I'll get a nurse." Emma puts her hands to her face and takes a deep breath.

"Will you please sit down," she groans into palms. Roman obliges but doesn't seem to calm down.

"Will you please stop acting like this is normal?"

The next ten minutes that pass are painfully long. Using his personal phone this time, he gives Pryce one last chance to answer. It goes to voice mail and grinds his teeth while waiting to leave a message. "If you think for one fucking second that I was anything less than serious about my last warning you are incredibly wrong. I will personally see that every fucking thing in your office is destroyed if you are not here in the next five minutes."

Roman is on his way back to the nurse's station when Pryce finally emerges from the depths of the basement hallways. His white lab coat has a considerable amount of blood on it. Whatever he had been working on was clearly much more than 'machinery issue. He gets off the elevator looking terrified and paranoid.

"Where have you been?" Roman barks at him, scaring the few that are nearby. 

"Roman, a word. In private," he says with a motion the nurses. Roman follows his direction with a scowl. Once they're in the semi-privacy of the hallway he explodes.

"What the fuck is going on? Where have you been?"

"I've been here, Roman. And a bit busy, mind you."

"A bit busy?" Roman scoffs. "_A bit busy_? Well, I'm _so_ sorry to bother you with my tiny problem. The thing is: my friend is coughing blood and having trouble breathing. So maybe you might try and find the time-"

"Roman," Pryce says seriously. "This is no time for sarcasm. That is the least of your worries."

"Oh! Is it?" Roman continues with his sarcasm.

"She is stable and her oxygen levels are rising," Pryce explains. "What you should be worried about is your mother."

"My mother? Where is she?" Roman asks.

"I am not sure," Pryce admits. "She's killed Prycilla."

"Killed?"

"Yes," he confirms solemnly. 

"Where's Shelley?"

"She's safe. She doesn't even know yet." Pryce's face shows genuine sadness for the young woman's loss. He had promised her, had worked her whole life to give her this new body. "I thought you should be the one to tell her."

"Olivia should have to," he says venomously. "Why did she... Why would she... Were you not going to tell me?"

"It's been incredibly difficult to keep this under wraps. It's a mess downstairs," Pryce tries to explain. "I believe she thought the stem cells would heal her cancer." Roman doesn't fully catch what he's saying. He's far down the hallway by the time Pryce is done speaking. He races through the hallways until a locked corridor stops him. Pryce tries to keep up with him.

"Unlock it!"

"I am," Pryce replies calmly. He scans his badge and the doors click open. Roman pushes past him and towards the elevator. Down several floors is Shelley's room. Once they're close it becomes evidently clear that they're too late. The sound of Shelley's wails echo through the empty hallways. Roman's speed slows down, his stomach drops.

The follow the sounds until they find a trail of blood. It's coming from the room Pryce had taken him to a few weeks earlier- the room where he stores Prycilla. The trail seems so out of place on the clean, white floors. It leads them to his sister. She sits on a pool of blood and cradles Prycilla in her hands. The body looks so small and fragile in comparison to his sister.

Roman slowly approaches, crouching lower and lower to Shelley's level. She only cries harder at the sight of him. He doesn't dare to move closer. Prycilla is practically ripped to pieces. Her ribs are exposed, and all of her intestines spill out. "Is the building locked down?" He asks Pryce. He speaks slowly and quietly, trying to no upset Shelley more. Pryce gives him a barely noticeable nod.

Roman stands and meets Pryce face to face. "The lower levels are locked down," Pryce explains. "We have been searching for her. We couldn't lock down the upstairs without causing a panic."

"I'm going to go find her. You need to make this right."

.....

When Roman had left her room to find Pryce she thought he'd be back soon. When 30 minutes passes Emma gets worried. Her phone calls go unanswered. Another 30 minutes pass when she realizes she can't wait anymore. He wouldn't leave her this long unless something serious was happening.

She unclips her pulse oximetry from her finger, setting off a loud _BEEEEEEEEP_. Without hesitation, she yanks off the tape and pulls the IV from the back of her hand. She pulls her out her cannula and holds ill-fitting hospital gown closer, all. She stumbles into the hallway without a plan.

Somehow walking hurts. It radiates from her ribs and vibrates down her spine. She moves a few steps at a time the stops to catch her breath. She's barely down the hall when a nurse comes rushing around the corner. "What are you doing up? You gave us a scare when your monitor flatlined." She asks with fake concern. She's only scared about the repercussions she would face if something had gone wrong. "Let's get you back to bed."

"Where's Roman?" Emma asks, still staggering forward.

"Mr. Godfrey is with Dr. Pryce right now," the nurse says as she comes closer and tries to guide her back to her room. "I'm sure he'll be back soon." Emma doesn't let her deter her. She ignores the woman's hands and the slow dizziness that's building in her head. "Please, come with me back to your room."

"I need Roman," Emma says, mostly to herself.

"He'll be back soon." The grabs ahold of her waist and steadies her. "Please go back to your room. _Please_," she begs. The day had been bad enough as is. This was a Saturday for crying out loud. It should be an easy day of caring for a few over-night patients. Baby deliveries, surgery recoveries, observations, but this was unexpected. This wasn't an emergency room.

The stress of a new patient with no diagnosis was bad enough as is. When you factor in Roman's presence it's almost unbearable. He had watched every nurse and every doctor that came near closely. When she had inserted the IV the first time she felt tense under his observation. She can't imagine his reaction if she had messed up.

She had been one of the nurses that brought her up here. He felt that they were too _rough _when moving her to the gurney. Then they were pushing too quickly causing a small, yet unavoidable when crossing the evaluator threshold. All the while, he is complaining that they aren't moving fast enough. It wasn't until today that all of the medical staff realized how lucky they were that Mr. Godfrey didn't pay much attention to them. He was a total control freak with a bad temper.

So, no, she couldn't let the girl wander around. The last thing she needed was for Mr. Godfrey to fire her for or worse- for him to publically reprimand her because of something stupid his friend did.

The desperation in the other woman's voice pulls at her gut. That, mixed with the growing nauseousness, makes her feet take her back to her room. She focuses her attention on the nurse trying to find a vein to reattach her IV. Fresh with a new bag of saline and needle.

"I'll page the other nurses. If they see him they'll let him know you're looking for him, okay?"

"Thank you."

.....

"You are evil," Roman says at the sight of his mother. He had known almost instantly where she went. She's sitting in _his _chair, in _his _office, smoking _his _cigarettes. "This is the worst thing you've done by far. That is very impressive."

"I doubt that," Olivia says.

"I knew you were full of shit. I had hoped for Shelley's sake that maybe you'd try harder, but I was so wrong. She trusted you! Do you have any feelings at all?"

"I do, sweetheart," Olivia says before putting out her cigarette. She stands and saunters towards him. "I was going to die and leave you here all alone."

"I would love that," he growls. "We'd all be better off if you had stayed dead."

"That's not true." Olivia tries to touch Roman's arm, but he pushes it away. "You need me alive, and here for you. I did what I had to do."

"You did this for you," he spits back at her.

"You're not caring care of yourself," she says sympathetically and with a tiny pout. "Look at your skin, you're nearly grey. You're not feeding-"

"I don't need you to tell me how to take care of myself."

"I just want to make sure you're healthy. That concoction Pryce has you on isn't working. I want to be a better mother, and I want time with Shelley." She's being so gentle that Roman almost considers that maybe she might be telling the truth. That she had done this because she thought he needed her and that Shelley needed her. He wants that to be the truth. But it isn't.

"If you cared about Shelley you would have never-"

"Shelley didn't want that silly thing anyway," she snaps then quickly composes herself again. "She'd- Shelley had convinced herself that it was alive. That it had developed a soul."

That runs through his mind quickly. There's no way Shelley could have thought that. Sure, Shelley was sweet and a bit naïve, but Roman had seen that thing first hand. It only sat there, colorless and motionless. It had no physical features much less mental. It only spoke the words Shelley had spoken to it first.

"She wasn't wrong," Olivia interrupts his memory. He looks at her with his head cocked to the right. He feels his throat settle in his stomach, unsure of what to say. "It was, in every practical sense, a fully developed person. I couldn't let Shelley go through with that. She wouldn't be able to live with herself."

"So you killed it instead?"

"What do you think Pryce would do?" Olivia quips. "When he found out Shelley wouldn't go through with it, what do you honestly think he would do with it? He can't keep things like that around, it's a huge ethical liability. No, no." She shakes her head solemnly. "He would have gathered his research and take his samples. Then that thing would be pulverized and in your refrigerator and you would never know."

Roman doesn't speak. He feels sick to his stomach hearing her speak this way. Olivia had raised him on lies. Every word she had ever spoken to him he had doubted its honesty. He has no doubts right now. He has no doubts that Olivia's reasoning for her actions is a lie. She can deny it all she wants but he knows it's self-serving. She wanted to live.

"That's a lie," he finally says. "I've seen that thing. There's nothing there."

"How long ago was that?" She asks. As difficult as it is to admit, Roman can see the sincerity in her eyes. She wasn't lying. "Because if you had seen it yesterday you would feel the way I do- the way Shelley does. It could read, and write, and learn. It was alive."

"It was for Shelley."

"Yes, it was, but she didn't want it and you need me. My granddaughter needs me."

"The only thing I need is for you to go away. Don't come by my house again, don't come to this building again, and don't come near my family ."

"Your family?" She laughs. "What cast of characters. A gypsy dog, and a that live in hooker. Congratulations, you moved up from your car."

"Don't talk like that."

"My granddaughter deserves better than that street trash," Olivia insists. "You two are Godfreys and it's time you behave like it."

"You're not a Godfrey," he reminds her venomously. "You have no place in telling me or my daughter what that name means. Stay away from my family."

"Your family won't survive without me," Olivia tells him sadly. "You need to learn the way. I need to teach you how to live. One day you'll understand why I do the things I do, dear. It's to survive- survival is in our nature."

"It's not _our_ nature," he says. "I'm not like you- in a month I'll be human again. And when my daughter is old enough she'll go through the procedure."

"You can't do that," she shakes her head rapidly in a panic. "You can't- that is cruel. You can't mutilate my grandchild. She could die."

"Anything to get your blood out of her veins," he snickers. "She'll be like me, like JR- a real Godfrey."

"What do you mean? Weak? Indecisive? Suicidal?"

"He chose a bullet in his head over being married to you."

"If he loved you as much as you think he did, why would he kill himself?" She asks him.

"Because of you. What does that say about you?" He asks, closing in on her face to face. "Because of you I never knew my father. If _you _loved me so much why would you deprive me of that?" He pauses. "Hm?"

Olivia just stares back into his eyes. They soften and her usual smirk fades away. Roman, feeling victorious, turns to leave. "JR's not your father." Her voice vibrates through him.

"What?" He turns to face her again.

"Didn't have it in him," she shrugs. "I know you've always thought he was some sort of a genius. It was the company line, and I didn't want to ruin your little fantasy. JR's only genius was recognizing it in others. He met a medical student one summer in New York. And he met a brilliant woman in London. Pryce and I made this company what it is. JR couldn't have created this. Much less give me a proper child." Her lip curls in disgust of remembering the dead man that she never loved.

Roman understands now. He knows what she means. It's so clear now. "That means..." He gulps in disgust as the last puzzle piece falls into place. "That means Letha-" He grabs at her throat, rage fully engulfing him. Olivia grabs him back and lifts him a foot off the floor.

"How's your humanity going for you know?" She asks patronizingly. Roman gasps for air until she throws him across the floor. "Not so great, huh?" He pants and tries to catch his breath as she leaves.

"One day," he says followed by a harsh breath. "One day I'm going to kill you again- if you don't from cancer first. There will be no one to bring you back. No one will remember who you were but me, you will be nothing."

Once he's able to stand again Roman grabs the phone from his desk. He is directed by security to Pryce. It's a private office in the public health wing. He's digging through his filing cabinets like a mad man. "Where's Shelley?" Roman asks and leans against the open door.

"She's sedated for the time being," Pryce says.

"I want to be with her," he tells him. "Take me to where she is."

"Roman," Pryce sighs and stands up fully to speak. "I think it would be best for her to be left alone. She needs a completely peaceful environment to wake up to."

"I need to be there for her. She would want me there."

"I know she would, and therein lies our problem. She doesn't need to think about anyone but herself... You may see her after she's awake and calm," Pryce offers. "Not a moment before, though. She might react differently if you are there."

"What are you doing?"

"There is essential patient information and research in here," Pryce says, returning to his search. He finds one of the files and sets it on the desk. He moves on to a new cabinet. "I need to make sure Olivia never sees it."

"Is she looking for it?" He asks, growing more and more irate. A few doctors walk by them, chatting loudly. The slow down at the sight of Roman being in this area. They find it strange that two men were in the office of their coworker, but don't say anything about it.

"Not that I know of, but I wouldn't put it past her." Pryce finds a file and pulls it out. "You can never underestimate her."

"You're just now realizing this?" Roman scoffs and slowly approaches. "You're the one who brought her back. I should have killed you the moment I found out. I did the world a fucking favor by killing her!"

"I didn't know it would go this far."

"You should have! What did you expect to happen?" He asks, his voice growing louder. "That she would come back a better person? That she'd change?"

"She is essential to the function of this company Roman," Pryce says but never stops digging. "I know that is hard to understand right now. But, believe me, I didn't know she would-"

"You have known that she would do anything to keep herself alive! Anything!"

"Shelley-" Pryce stops digging again to face Roman and defend his actions.

"Don't you dare forget who killed Shelley first," Roman growls, backing Pryce into a corner. "She never gave a shit about her."

Pryce is searching for a response when there's a little knock at the open-door. "I'm so sorry to interrupt."

"Don't be," Pryce says honestly. "What can I do for you?"

"Actually I'm here for Mr. Godfrey," she says. Her face is puzzled and she is nervous over what she had just walked into. Roman turns slightly to look at her. "Ms. Parker has been asking for you."

"Oh, shit," Roman says, startled. It felt like days had passed, had all of this really happened in a day? That's impossible. No, no. Surely this wasn't all happening back to back. He puts his hand to his forehead and pulls at his hair.

"I have everything I need from here, we could head there now," Pryce says. Roman nods but knows this conversation is far from over. The doctor was far from off the hook.

They walk side-by-side as if they hadn't just been in a very heated conversation. "We'll keep her for observation," Pryce announces. "I'll tell her it's blood in her stomach- just ulcers."

"What is it?" Roman asks. Pryce doesn't answer immediately.

"I don't know, Roman," he admits. "It might actually be a stomach ulcer."

"It would happen that fast?"

"Not typically, no," he says. "From what has been communicated to me, I would say some of her symptoms are similar to cardiac arrest. Not enough of them, though, and she's certainly not in the demographic of carried arrest... I'll need to do an examination to rule them out. Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary?"

"Not anything particular." Roman tries to think back over the week, but much like today day, it seems to have formed into one long blur.

"Fatigue? Weight loss? Change in diet? Headaches?" Roman shakes his head at all of them. "Panic attacks can have similar symptoms of cardiac arrest."

"Do people cough blood during panic attacks?" Roman returns to his sarcasm defense.

"It's uncommon, but they can," Pryce says with his signature fake kindness. "I'm not a psychologist, but anxiety or post-traumatic stress disorder can trigger physical illness. Perhaps an eating disorder?" Roman quirks his head before his face sours. "It could be completely psychological."

"She's not a fucking mental case. Something is seriously wrong and you're wasting time."

"Alright, alright," he sighs as the stop outside of Emma's door. "I'll do my best. I've got some time before I need to go check on Shelley." Roman crosses his arms over his chest and follows Pryce back into the room.

Emma sits up quickly at the sound of the doorknob turning. She's so relieved to see that it isn't another nurse coming to 'check in' on her.

"How are you feeling?" Pryce asks Emma without a greeting. If it's anything like she looks, it's not great. She's laying on an uncomfortable hospital bed with her sock covered feet elevated by pillows. Underneath the layers and layers of sheets and blankets, she wears that damned scratchy hospital gown. Her eyes open wide at the sight of blood on his white jacket.

"I'm fine." She knows she looks worse than she did when Roman left, but she does really feel better. She had just grown stressed and anxious waiting on him to come back.

"Em," Roman says sternly. He looks down quizzically at her elevated feet. He couldn't remember if they had been like when he left. How long had he been gone? He quickly glances at the analog clock on the wall. He'd been gone almost four hours.

"I'm fine," Emma assures him. She doesn't trust Pryce. She looks to Roman and he can see clearly the distrust in her face. "Roman, I'm fine."

"Well," Pryce says with an annoying smile. "You'll need to stay overnight for observation. We want to make sure another episode doesn't happen."

"Really, I'm okay. I'd like to go home," she insists even though her body screams at her for it. Even if something was wrong she didn't want to stay here overnight. She'd hated staying overnight after her arm was broken. She couldn't sleep and the hallways were noisy and she couldn't lock the door.

"No," Roman tells her sternly. "You're not okay. You're staying here until it's safe to leave." She huffs and crosses her arms, but doesn't push back. She glares at him for his scolding. _You're not my fucking dad._

"Have you had any complications leading up to this?" Pryce asks and continues approaching her.

"No." She looks at him nervously. Without warning, he presses his hands down to her stomach and begins pushing down. Emma shifts away uncomfortably but it doesn't help, he just follows.

"Are you having any pain when I press down?" She shakes her head but bites back pain as his hands rise higher on her abdomen. "I can't help you if you aren't honest."

"It hurts a little," she concedes.

"Alright, it seems like you might have stomach ulcers. We should plan for an endoscopy tomorrow-"

"That's not possible," Emma interrupts him. "There's no way a stomach ulcer would appear out of nowhere and without symptoms."

"Well," Pryce says sharply. "According to your record I have for you, you have had a fairly severe fluctuation of weight-"

"I'm not eating at a college dining hall anymore."

"Nevertheless, a stomach ulcer is most likely the culprit." He snaps her file closed. He refuses to argue with two children in one day. He's the doctor for god's sake. "You're young, healthy, and will recover smoothly. We'll run a couple of blood tests just to be safe." Pryce gives Roman a nod and leaves the room.

Roman stays against the wall with his arms crossed. Emma waits for him to speak but he just gives a half-hearted shrug. "He's full of shit," Emma says.

"He usually is," Roman mumbles.

"Why don't I go home? I'll come back on Monday, okay? I'll see a different doctor," she bargains. "If it really is stomach ulcers I'll be okay at home until then."

"Maybe," Roman replies hesitantly. "You still look like shit right now."

"Everyone keeps saying that to me," she groans with a laugh. "And it's not very nice."

"Well, it's true," he says with the slightest bit of a tease.

"Where have you been?"

"There were some machinery issues downstairs," he says falling in line with Pryce's own lie. "I should have had someone tell you where I was... But it was very stressful and I didn't realize how long I'd been gone."

"What about your treatment?" She suddenly remembers the real reason they are there. "Did I ruin that?"

"No." He grimaces. "Pryce ruined it."

"What happened?"

"Nothing." Emma raises an eyebrow skeptically. "Nothing happened for you to worry about, okay? You should just rest and relax." She doesn't push back. Roman takes the seat next to her bed and takes the attached remote from her bed and flips through TV stations. He settles for Jeopardy and pretends to be very interested in it.

"Look," she starts after a few minutes of the show. "I really wasn't trying to upset you earlier, or fight with you, or whatever. I'm just worried and I didn't understand why you didn't understand, but while you were gone I thought about it."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been back for a few months now..." she says without looking away from the TV. "You have this whole new life now. I thought that I was helping you by trying to tell you how I felt about... _things_. But, I wasn't. It's your life, Roman, and I want you to be happy." She doesn't want it to be an _either me or her _choice and she denies it, but the whole time a voice yells out _pick me "_When it's safe, I'm going to leave and go back to school. And it will be okay."

"No, it won't."

"Sure it will," she says trying to convince herself. "Just because things are different doesn't mean they're bad. When you're in Philly we can still hang out, if you want. But, you are going to have to explain to my mom that you won't be at Thanksgiving. She'll take it better from you." She tries to lighten the mood. Roman laughs just the slightest bit.

A light knock at the door breaks up their 'break up' of sorts. It felt like they were in the middle of a custody battle for themselves. This is the only way it could work. At least it could work for a little while.

The same nurse from the hallway comes in carrying a couple of paper packages and vials. "Hey," she says in her friendliest voice. "I just need to grab a couple of samples."

Roman sits silently, once again watching with great intensity as the woman ties the tourniquet around her arm. Emma doesn't feel much when the needle goes in, but Roman looks as though he can. "I'm going to go," he says at the sight of blood. He clears his throat and looks away. "I'll be back, okay?"

"Okay," Emma says somewhat understandingly. He's usually good about being around blood, but maybe it had been a few days since her fed.

"Is he scared of blood?" The nurse asks.

"Extremely."

.....

It doesn't take long for the nurse to finish up and for Roman to return. He stays for a while. They've just brought her dinner when he seems to get antsy. The vibration of his phone grabs his attention. It's Pryce telling him he can come downstairs to see Shelley. Emma doesn't know that, though. She assumes that it's either Miranda or Peter asking him to leave. The voice in her head definitely assigns the blame to Miranda. Roman wouldn't leave for Peter- at least she doesn't see that as something he would do.

"I have to go," he says. Even though she had anticipated it, it still makes her blood boil. _You have to go?_ She thinks. _You made them admit me into the fucking hospital and you won't even stay with me? _

"No!" Emma sits up. She intends to sound stiff and assertive but it comes out sounding desperate and pathetic. "Don't leave me here alone again."

"I'm not leaving," Roman says. "I have to run downstairs and sign off on some things from this morning. You need to get some sleep, anyways."

"Can't they bring it up to you?" She asks, not buying his excuse.

"It's a security issue," he explains. He's struggling to balance all the things that are happening at once. It was too much for him to carry. "I promise, I'll be back." He doesn't know when, but he knows he will come back. He doesn't have the slightest idea of what to expect with Shelley.

He never makes it downstairs to find out either. He's just gotten off the elevator when his phone rings with yet another emergency.

Emma doesn't 'rest' as Roman had instructed. She's still staring at the television. Her arms are crosses and a deep scowl is on her face. _You have you go? _She continues to think to herself. She grows angrier and angrier the longer she thinks about it. _And to think I had just apologized to him and then he runs off to- _

The thoughts circle and circle around until they're stopped by the door opening. She almost feels bad for being mad at Roman- he had come back quickly like he promised, but it isn't Roman.

"You're scared of me, aren't you?" Pryce asks as the door closes behind him. As he approaches her she notices him pull something from his pocket.

"No," Emma asserts as he reaches for it.

"Stubborn child." Pryce taps at the syringe. "I can see it in your face. Every time you look at me like I have something sinister planned."

"You always look like you have something sinister planned." Pryce laughs heartily.

"I am anything but sinister," he says. "Perhaps a bit unethical at times, but not sinister."

"You killed Letha," she counters.

"I didn't kill Letha."

"You didn't keep her alive."

"Like I said," Pryce says and tries to bury how irritated he truly is becoming. "Unethical? Yes. Sinister? Not intentionally. That's more of Olivia's forte. After all, I've only delivered one child like that before and it was Roman. No one could have kept Letha alive." He comes to her bedside and begins fiddling with the needle in her hand. "Now, does that calm your fears a bit?"

"Not at all," she replies stone cold. Of course, it didn't make her feel better.

"That's a shame."

"What's that?" She sits up to ask. "What's in it?"

"Relax," he says with a forced smile. Emma tries to pull her hand from his grasp but is in no position to fight back. "I'm not going to hurt you. I prefer having my throat left in my neck. It's just some valium to help you rest."

"I'm not tired," she says.

"That is exactly why I'm giving it to you." Emma fights it off as long as she can, which isn't long. Pryce waits until he's sure it's taken effect and leaves her. He walks down to the nurse's station. He almost pities them, having known the amount of time they had to spend with Roman that morning. They still greet him with a smile, though, and kindly take his order for an MRI scan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go my guys!! Next chapter is the last then a little epilogue and I'll link everyone to the next story. I hope you all come along for that one as well. I think everything is going to tie up pretty nicely and I'm really excited and also very to share it with you guys. I have no idea what to do once I'm done with Emma and Roman, I've been writing them for like a year now and it's been a ride for sure.


	31. Shrike

Roman stands in the hallway. He's being pulled in every direction and doesn't know which to follow. He doesn't know which one he cares about the most. As always, when he thinks shit can't get more fucked up shit gets way more fucked up.

Right now, he's balancing Shelley, Emma, and now Miranda and Nadia. The phone call he had received was frantic and hysterical. He can hear Nadia wailing in the background, afraid of the danger she doesn't know exists. "Come here. Come to the tower," he instructs her. "This part of the building is on lockdown, okay? No one can come in without a clearance. This is the safest place for you two, okay?"

"That's what you said about Nadia's room before," Miranda points out. "And about me being at your house."

"I'm trying, Miranda," he says. "This is the best I can do."

"I don't know-" Miranda sobs harder.

"If you do not come here I will send the police after you for kidnapping my child, or I will find you myself," he threatens. He hears her take a couple deep sniffles on the other side.

"Okay," she agrees. "I'm coming." Roman hangs up before he has the chance to get angrier. He stands there in front of the elevator, unsure of where to go. He _wants _to be there for Shelley, but Nadia _needs_ him. He's never felt needed before- never really felt useful to anyone.

He steps back into the elevator. This is what he has to do. Roman waits near the garage entry while he waits on them to arrive. He calls the only person that can help him.

"Roman," Pryce answers after a few rings.

"I can't come down there," he tells him, trying to not sound upset. "There's an emergency with Nadia."

"An emergency?" He asks. "What kind?"

"That's not important. Just take care of Shelley," Roman instructs him. "I can handle this for now, but... Just, please, take care of her."

"I will," Pryce agrees.

"Don't fuck this up. Again."

"And what about Miss Parker?" Pryce asks, completely bypassing Roman's threat.

"Can you just... I don't," Roman says and paces. "Can you just put her to sleep for a little while? She needs it anyway."

"I agree," Pryce says. The conversation ends with Roman feeling like Pryce has more to say.

.....

When Emma first comes to she's being pushed down the hallway. The lights burn her eyes, so she blocks them with her hand. "How long have I been asleep?" She asks the nurse pushing her bed.

"A little over two hours."

"Two hours," she slowly repeats aloud. "Where's Roman?"

"I'm not sure," she says curtly.

"Can you find him?" The nurse nods but doesn't answer. Every bump that the bed makes on the way pounds through her head. She tries her hardest to stay awake, but lulls between that and sleep. "Can you find Roman?" She asks again once they're halted outside of a door. "I need him."

"Okay, princess," the nurse says as she locks Emma's bed in place. She wouldn't talk to her that way if Roman was here like he was supposed to be. It builds up in her stomach then out to her shoulders. Emma cries and will later blame it on the sedatives. It's not, though. She's scared and alone. What had happened was terrifying. She had tried so hard to play it off, but she can't do it anymore.

The worst part is being alone through it. She worries that she had played it off too much and Roman believed her. There was never papers to sign. Maybe there had been a 'machinery issue,' but this was unrelated. Her gut tells her that the text had come from Miranda, and she's inclined to believe it. Why else would he have left for so long? He knew she had been upset the first time then to leave again... But that shouldn't matter. What matters is that he had left, not why. _But_, she reasons, _he wouldn't have gone if she hadn't texted him. _

Of course, these thoughts couldn't be further from the truth. The truth is that Roman is trying to manage a cluster-fuck of emergencies. He doesn't even know how much time has passed, or even what time it is. He had been on autopilot mode making sure Nadia made it in the building and into a secure room safely. He didn't answer or even acknowledge questions on the way there.

One thing at a time, that's what keeps telling himself. Get Nadia somewhere safe. Once they're safe it's time to go to the next thing, and this thing is a bit more complicated. Miranda had rambled and stumbled through the story of what happened. He tries to break it down but his mind feels like it's rotting over different radio signals. A million things at once.

"How long were you with Spivak?" He asks.

"A while. I went to his office and he- he explained the blood and I don't really remember how, it just made sense at the time. He made it make sense." She shrugs. "And then he gave Nadia a little check-up and said she was doing great, that she was perfect. Then I left."

"And you went back?"

"No- well yes, but no," she struggles to explain. "I went to get something to eat-"

"With Nadia?" He asks. Had he still not made it clear? There were still cult members out for fuck's sake.

"Just for like a moment but before I could order he came in. It seemed like a coincidence," she says. "I know that sounds stupid-"

"Yes, it does."

"I didn't know what was going to happen. He'd been so friendly and kind through this all, I sat down to eat with him."

"With your doctor?" He questions.

"I was being polite!" Miranda insists. "He was being normal- y'know just 'how's life' kind of things."

"Nothing about that raised a red flag?"

"No! It was just a friendly, polite, normal conversation. He seemed like he just cared about how I was doing. I told him everything was okay except that my tits are bleeding and I've been stressed."

"How did he get you alone with Nadia?"

"He asked if I minded coming back to his office for some blood work." His head quirks. He asked her to come back? "He said that stress can cause excessive bleeding and that maybe that could be related and he wanted to run samples just in case. So, I went back with him and he took some samples and we talked while we waited and that's when things got weird."

"Weird?"

"Very. He started asking me about what was stressful to me, and if I had been planning on leaving soon. I explained everything and I told him no, and that you had handled everything, but he didn't seem to really believe me. He said that it's not safe here anymore and that it's time to go."

"You told him about the cult?"

"No," Miranda says with her eyebrows raised. "I told him about almost being murdered in my own home."

.....

Emma coughs but can't sit up. She tries and tries, she knows sitting up would make her feel better. Gasping for breath, the metallic taste of blood finds its way to her tongue. It builds so quickly that it dribbles from the corners of her mouth before she can react. Once her mouth is cleared a tickle in her chest irrupts into violent coughs.

She wakes up gasping for the air she dreamed she had been denied. It had felt so real that she swears she still can taste blood.

It seems like everything Roman had done to make her feel better left her feeling worse. Physically she felt ill, her forehead has a dull pain, and her stomach cramps. Mentally she doesn't feel real and it scares her. Emma's mind races and she wonders if she's already dead. Maybe she had choked to death and was now stuck in limbo.

Using all her concentration, she puts her hand to her chest to check for a heartbeat. It's subtle, but it's still there. She lays back against her thin pillow and doesn't dare let her eyes close for more than a few seconds. She has to get out of here. And fast.

When Emma's sure she can stand she unclips herself again. She yanks the IV out from her hand and uses the bed railing to push herself up. She grabs the IV stand and pulls it along with her to the bathroom. They'll come looking for her soon and it better look like she's coming back to bed.

On the side table sits a bag with her clothing and other belongings. Emma doesn't remember them taking her stuff. She quickly pulls the stiff gown over her head and leaves it on the cold tile floor. Under her gown, she sees her entire sternum is covered in one long, dark bruise. It's such a deep purple that it borders on being black. It disperses out on her ribs like watercolor paint. Her right breast follows that pattern, but almost all of her left is just as bad as her sternum.

Her chest had been sore, but she couldn't believe it didn't hurt worse. Maybe she should stay here after all. No, she has to go. She won't be held here like some prisoner. It wasn't like they were doing much to help her anyways. All they would do is shoot for full of diazepam to shut her up until Roman got back. And who knows how long that could take.

"Are you in the bathroom?" She hears a voice call out from the other side of the door.

"Yes, I'm sorry!" She calls back.

"Just clip finger back when you come out."

"Okay!" She waits to hear the door close and moves as fast as she can to finish redressing.

Roman had said he'd gone downstairs but she doesn't know what floor. She doesn't know if he's still down there or if he ever went there to begin with. That's all she has to go on. She chooses to go to the only floor she knows- the one where he gets his treatments.

Emma keeps her head down and her hair pulled forward as she rushes to find an elevator. A couple of doctors pass by her without a second glance. She makes it to the elevator without any interruptions, but as she's waiting she hears a couple of voices approaching. One of them sounds like the voice that came to check on her. She bounces on her feet nervously and rushes past the open doors just as the voices become clearer.

She leans against the back wall of the elevator to relax. They'd know she was gone by now.

The lobby of the basement floor is empty except a security guard sitting at a desk. He's reclined back in his chair and on his phone. He is someone she recognizes from her Saturdays here. She hopes he remembers her. "Hi," she says as approaching him. "I'm here with Roman and I uh- I went to the bathroom and he told me to meet him somewhere and I can't remember where it was. Are you able to tell me where he is? I can't get in touch with him."

"All levels from here on are on lockdown. No one in, no one out," he says without looking up from his phone. "Do you have a badge?"

"No," she says. "I always come here _with_ Roman."

"Well, Mr. Godfrey is aware that you wouldn't be able to get in."

"Fine," Emma huffs. "Look me up, I'm sure I'm in there somewhere for a security clearance or something. You know I'm here every Saturday."

"I can't make assumptions based off of looks," he says and scans over her face. She looks like a maniac and still hasn't worked the sedative off yet. "What's your full name?" She provides him with every detail he demands- even a fingerprint. "Mr. Godfrey last entered level B3. You have a clearance for the level, but certain departments will require further approval. That's all the information I have."

"Thank you," Emma says. She rushes back to the elevator and waits on it to return.

"You'll need this!" The guard calls back to her. She runs back to him to grab a temporary badge, then back to the elevator just as it arrives. Inside, she takes a moment to catch her breath then scans her badge and takes it deeper into the basement. Leaning against the wall of the elevator, she feels relief then anger.

There's no way a hospital staffer could stop her from here out. That's at least one less thing to worry about. They didn't have a security clearance. Next, she has to deal with Roman. She hadn't even thought about what would happen when she found him. Should she go in with as much anger as she feels or gives him the benefit of the doubt?

The elevator comes to a halt and brings a new challenge with it. Emma still had to find him. Getting to the level was the simples part. From here on out she's going to have wandered through a myriad of hallways. If she can find her way through, how will she know which hallway or room he is in?

The B3 lobby is busier than the one above. A few scientists in lab coats pass through, glancing at her as she comes off the elevator. She doesn't know any of them but they know she's out of place. Emma walks towards the closest corridor and walks forward. If she can find another security guard maybe they can find him.

Time doesn't exist in the hallways. It could be 5 minutes, it could be an hour. She can't tell either way. She glances into every small window she passes hoping to see someone familiar. Most rooms are empty and dark, it is Saturday after all.

"Miss Parker?" A voice comes from behind her. She stops abruptly and turns around only to see a stranger. He comes closer but she backs away matching his steps. "What are you doing all the way down here?"

"Where's Roman?" She asks, unfazed by his question.

"I'm not sure," he says with a smile eerily similar to Pryce's. "I'll take you back upstairs- they're looking for you." He holds a hand out gestures for her to come forward.

"Where's Roman?" She asks this time sterner and chin held high.

"I'm sorry." The man's smile falters then returns. "I'm under strict orders to return you to your room."

"If you don't take me to him now, I will make sure that you'll never have orders to worry about at this company," she threatens, eyes wide. Emma isn't sure that she can actually make that happen but right now he has to believe it. Under any other circumstances, her confidence would be higher, but Roman will most likely try to send her back himself.

"Very well." He huffs and gives in. "He's in a testing lab. I can take you to him." Emma nods him on but doesn't get closer. He's already admitted he was supposed to take her back upstairs, who's to say he doesn't have a trick up his sleeve. None of the people here can be trusted, not even the less sinister ones. She follows down a hallway where she can hear animals rattling around and crying out. It makes her sick to her stomach.

The stranger tries to unlock a lab door, but it denies his badge. Emma watches skeptically as he knocks on the door and waits. It unlocks from the inside and opens slowly. Roman's head comes out slightly only to be met by her scowl. "What are you doing here?" He asks.

"What are _you_ doing here?" She quips back. "Do you know how hard it was to find you?"

He looks distraught and she can tell something is very wrong. He waves her in and waits for the door to lock behind them. Emma looks around the brightly lit room. On one side there's a large window that shows into an observation unit with a monkey. Her suspicions are confirmed when she sees Miranda holding Nadia. "What's going on?" She asks and turns back to face him. She chickens out from being verbally angry.

"Nothing," Roman tries to assure. "You should go back to your room."

"Roman-"

"Emma." He lightly takes a hold of her jaw to force eye contact. The grip, no matter how gentle this time, reminds her of the last time he had held her face in place like that. She quickly pushes his hands off her face, disgusted by the familiar feeling. She had failed that French test, but she still remembers every word she had repeated. "Go back to your room." Her legs beg her to move, to follow his orders. The single line of blood falling from his nose offends her.

"No," spits back at him. "Tell me what's happening."

"Dr. Spivak tried to take Nadia," Miranda answers for him. Roman walks away, his own jaw in his hand now.

"What?" She asks astounded. "Who?"

"The doctor I've been going to- he wants to take Nadia, and I guess me," she rambles. "He's the reason I'm lactating, the reason I'm here..."

Emma looks at Roman for some sort of answer- for anything- but he doesn't have anything to offer her. "That's wild," she says, unsure of why both of them are so panicked. "Just go kill him?"

"He's not human," Roman tells her. "I don't know what he is."

"Where's Pryce? Maybe he can help-" She suggests despite her desire to never see him again.

"He doesn't know," Roman snaps as he grows smaller and smaller. "Olivia showed up- she wanted to take Nadia herself... She was fighting with Spivak and he took her down easy."

"He has scales," Miranda adds. "She scratched him and I saw scales."

"Wh-what?" Emma asks. She can't keep up. "Scales? Like a fish? Scales?"

"He tried to take me and Nadia. He's who made me wreck my car, made me nurse her." Miranda walks a few feet away to collect herself. She's on the brink of another panic attack.

"What about Destiny? Have you asked her?"

"She said she's never heard of something like that... She said my kind are at the top of the food chain." Roman leans over a lab table. Miranda comes back and places Nadia on it. She puts an arm around Roman's waist and waits for him to pull her in for a hug. He doesn't.

"Someone has to know something," Emma insists. "I can call Finn-maybe he knows?"

"He won't," Roman says stubbornly.

"He might know someone that does," she counters. Her brows furrow as she realizes something. "Actually, I might know someone?"

"You know someone?" Roman asks skeptically and hiding his hopefulness. God he hopes there's someone that can help them for once.

"From school- one of my professors researched this kind of stuff."

"Do you have his phone number?"Miranda asks. She comes back towards Roman. Emma shakes her head.

"I have his email."

"He won't answer in time," Roman says. His pessimism takes over. Of course, no one could help them. "It'll be too late. Plus he's just a professor, he doesn't even know this shit is real."

"Do you have any better ideas?" Emma asks. He says nothing. "I can try."

Roman thinks it over then nods. This is better than nothing. Emma sits down and composes an email as quickly as she can on her little phone screen. "He just has scales?" She asks. "Anything else?"

"No," Miranda confirms. "Just looks like a human. He's strong though."

Emma's hands shake as she tries to type out a somewhat cohesive email. "Peter and Destiny are here," Roman announces a few minutes after she's hit send. "I've got to go get them."

"I'm coming," Emma says. She looks up quickly and expects a rejection, but she doesn't receive one. Roman just nods and waits for her to follow. The door automatically locks the behind them, but Roman tests it by pulling at it twice just to be safe.

"I know what you're going to ask," he says once they're walking down the hall.

"Yeah? And what's your reply?"

"I didn't tell you because I was a bit busy trying to figure out what to do about... And because I knew you'd be doing exactly what you're doing right now."

"What am I doing?"

"Running around trying to help when you should be resting," Roman says. She follows behind him around a corner. His long legs make it almost impossible to stay in pace with. "Deny it all you want, but you know you're not okay. You're not stupid, Em."

"I'm not going to sit around a do nothing," she says. Reaching the elevator, Roman presses the button several times as if it will make it come faster. "There are bigger things at stake than my health."

"You don't know what's at stake for you!" He bursts. The few people who had been lingering in the lobby look over to them. The elevator doors open and Roman walks forward with his hands pressed to his face. When the door slides closed he crosses his arms. "You don't even know what's wrong!"

" I want to help," she insists.

"I know you do, but I don't need-" Roman grits her teeth and pushes down his frustration. What doesn't she understand? "I don't need you hurting yourself added on."

"I'm not going to hurt myself." Roman press one hand to the wall of the elevator and rests his weight on it.

"Why won't you just let other people help you?" He looks over at her. "If not for yourself, for the people that care about you! The people that need you! Your mom needs you- I need you."

"You don't need me."

"Do you really think that?" He asks. She nods half-heartedly. "Don't lie. You know that if that were true you wouldn't be here."

Destiny and Peter are waiting for them in the lobby. Peter looks like he's just woken up. Emma looks out to the tall glass windows and is surprised to find it is pitch black outside. All of the floors she can see from the atrium are dark and empty. Only a single receptionist sits at the entrance.

Peter rushes forward to check in with Roman as Destiny follows behind. She looks somber and preoccupied. She notices Emma looking at her and gulps it back. "Hey," Destiny greets her. "How are you feeling?"

"You look scared," is all she says back. Destiny bites her lips and nods a quick confirmation. Peter and Roman are already walking back and the two women follow. "What did you see?" She whispers.

"I don't know," Destiny quietly responds. "A lot of quick flashes. Snakes and spiders..."

"Does Peter know?" Destiny shakes her head no.

Roman gets them back without any issues with security. No one even thinks about asking for their badges. Getting there takes her a significantly less amount of time than it did the first time. Roman unlocks the door and holds it open for everyone to file in. "Um, Roman?" Peter asks. "Where is she?" Inside, the room is completely empty. The only thing remaining is a bottle of water Miranda had been drinking from.

"Miranda?" Roman calls out. He goes to check the bathroom but doesn't make it there.

"Guys," Destiny says to them. They all look towards her and see what she's seeing. The window into the monkey's room is now covered in blood and pieces of brain. The monkey's headless body lays still in the center of the room.

"Holy shit," Peter gasps.

"We gotta find them," Roman says. "We have to- where would they?"

"Security," Emma reminds. "They can find her."

"Right, right," Roman nods and rushes to leave. The follow after him.

The security team is useless. It's not their fault- not really. It's Roman's for allowing her in without a way to track her. He'd done the same for Destiny and Peter. Now they were stuck wandering the halls on a wild goose chase. The security team breaks up into groups and tries to track her down using the security cameras.

Peter and Destiny focus on the basement while Emma and Roman head up. He had taken Miranda to his office once before and he thinks she might have gone there. Emma struggles to keep up as she runs towards his office. It's locked and dark except for the moonlight coming through the windows. "Fuck!" He yells and slams his hand on the door.

Emma stands behind him trying to catch her breath. She looks at Roman's face and even with the limited light can tell he's struggling to hold his composure. His eyes are glassy and his nostrils flare. She's never seen him like this, not even after Letha died.

He marches on and they go a floor up. He calls out Miranda's name and checks every door. She walks behind with her arms crossed over her chest. The bruises are causing discomfort but it's not unbearable or too worrying. Roman notices this and puts his hands on her shoulder, bending down to her height. "Em, please," he begs desperately. "Go back to your room before you hurt yourself."

"No." He looks ready to ask again when his phone rings. It's Peter.

"Did you find her?" He asks.

"The roof," Peter replies sadly. "She's gone to the roof."

"What's happening?" Emma and motions for him to put it on speakerphone.

"What do you mean the roof?" Roman asks. He holds the phone out between them.

"She's going to the roof," he repeats. "My dream, remember? The night after the attack."

"We're headed there now," Roman says and pulls at her hand.

"We are too," Destiny says then hangs up.

Peter's right. They find Miranda standing near the edge of the building with Nadia gripped tight. "Miranda!" Roman yells. She backs up closer to the edge when she hears him. They stop on the inside of the fence that's supposed to protect people from the edge. "You don't want to do this!"

"I'm so sorry," Miranda says to Nadia.

"Don't hurt her!" Roman pleas. He puts his arms through the railing and holds them out to her. "Everything's okay," he says trying his hardest to sound calm. "Just hand me the baby. Everything's going to be okay."

Miranda looks at him and he thinks she might consider it. Her face is too soft and Emma knows better. She's not even able to reason with what Roman asks. "Please Miranda." She leans her head to the right and looks at him. "Bring me the baby." Emma watches as Roman's nose lets out a single drop of blood. Miranda shakes her head and doesn't move.

Emma notices then that Miranda's shirt is soaking wet with blood that is still coming from her nipples. "All I ever did was love you," Miranda says. She glances between Roman and Nadia, making it impossible to decipher who she's speaking too.

The door behind them busts open. Peter and Miranda run out next to Roman. "Miranda!" Peter says. "Please, come here. Listen to me." Miranda sees them and then looks at Nadia.

"I'm sorry," she cries. Nadia coos in response. Miranda continues, ignoring the pleas from both of the boys. "I'm so sorry for what's happened to you. You don't deserve this- to be born the way you are."

"Miranda," Roman says. He ignores the tears he has falling down his face. "Please."

"I never meant to hurt you," she continues. "I made you worse."

"Don't!"

"You're going to see your real mom soon."

Watching Miranda jump off the tower is different than how it is in the movies. She doesn't jump or step off. She just falls forward into the air. Emma's first reaction isn't about death but about the pain. They were going to land on the concrete below after their fall. Would Miranda change her mind halfway down?

As everyone rushes to the ledge, Emma backs up against the wall. She can only watch as the three people in front of her scream out. Roman looks down, paralyzed and helpless. Then, something large and grey flies bye. It's so fast that it causes a breeze to tussle at his hair. If he had blinked he could have missed seeing the creature grab both Nadia and Miranda in its claws. It's gone as quickly as it came.

.....

It's only been 19 hours since they left the tower. No one has slept or ate. They probably border dehydration. Emma, Peter, Destiny, and Finn sit in Roman's living room. It's still half destroyed with furniture that needs to be replaced. It reeks of tequila and sweat.

"Let's assess the situation," Peter says. "Miranda and Nadia are missing-"

"I think," Emma interrupts. The exhaustion is catching up with her. "The technical term is kidnapped by a bird?"

"Okay, that's fair," Peter agrees. "Miranda and Nadia were kidnapped by a bird, Roman is missing, and there are still a couple of cult stragglers out there. Anything to add to that list?"

"I think that's it," Finn confirms.

"We need to find Roman," Peter starts. His face twitches in bitterness. "Why would he run away? I get that Miranda... But we need him here to help. We have to find Nadia."

"I know," Emma says.

"Nadia is Letha's baby and it's my responsibility... I don't know why I didn't take her, I should have never trusted that fucker..."

"Being angry won't help," Destiny says. "We can be upset later."

"I know where Roman is," Emma says to herself.

She finds him sitting on the floor in Shelley's room. An array of empty bottles and cigarette butts litter the floor around him. The old floor creaks under her footsteps but Roman pretends to not notice. Emma hasn't been in this room since Roman was in his coma. It was furnished and filled with Shelley's personal belongings. Everything gone now, most likely gone forever.

The only item in the room is the morbid looking crib. It has Olivia Godfrey written all over it. "Are you here to gloat?" He asks, finally acknowledging her intrusion. In the midst of his question, there was the looming anger of betrayal and heartbreak. When Miranda jumped she had made a decision that wasn't hers to make. She had betrayed the trust Roman had foolishly put into her hands. When she jumped it proved the feeling that he had always held in his mind that no one could love him. An 'I told you so' is too cruel even for this moment.

"Gloat?" She asks.

"You warned me," he says. "Tried to anyway."

"I didn't know this was going to happen."

"You knew something was going to happen."

"Not this," she says and slides down next to him. "I just thought she was going to take your money or trick you into getting her pregnant." Roman snorts.

"I would never," he chuckles pathetically.

"You can't trust people," she says. She leans forward trying to see his face. "Y'know, one broken condom, and you're locked into child support forever. And she just seemed like the kind of person that would pop a hole in one."

"I should have listened." Roman bites his bottom lip then sits up. "I should have known after she took her to the park. I'm so fucking stupid."

"We all make mistakes."

"Most mistakes don't end up with your child being thrown off a building and then kidnapped by a bird."

"That's true..." She hears Roman sniffle. "But you also didn't want to be a dad. You didn't ask for this, and you don't know how to take care of yourself- much less a baby."

"That's not an excuse," Roman says and scowls. "I should have been better, she was my responsibility. Even Olivia would have done better. I'm so selfish."

"Okay, you're right, you have no excuse. Is that what you want to hear? You chose to ignore every single red flag about her. You looked the other way anytime she showed a blatant disregard for Nadia's safety. You became hostile to anyone that pointed that out. You were _stupid _and _irresponsible, _and I don't even understand why."

"I don't either," he admits.

"Then get up and do something about it," she urges him. Standing up she holds out a hand for Roman. "Sitting here and feeling sorry for yourself isn't going to undo it. And it's definitely not going to help find her. It's time to get to work."

"Where do we even start?" He asks then hesitantly takes her hand.

"Well, we need to make sure we get to her before the cult does. I'm sure they know what's happened by now. They'll be looking too." She searches Roman's face for a reaction but only stays solid. Hopeless. "Finn thinks he's found a lead on a house. He's going to go investigate. Then we can go-"

"Fine," he spits, startling her. "Then go with him. Go."

Roman turns away and returns to his seat on the floor. He wants to be left alone. He needs time. Why won't people just leave him alone? He has enough to worry about without some stranger trying to take charge. Nadia is dead. Maybe not now, but soon. Spivak wouldn't keep her alive once he's gotten what he wants. Roman hasn't figured out what that is yet. He could have easily taken any child, he chose her for a reason.

He pretends to ignore Emma's struggle for words. He can tell she doesn't want to leave him there like this. It's useless. He's useless. What good could he possibly offer them? He hadn't saved anyone. He couldn't stop her from being attacked. He wasn't even able to protect his family in his own home- Peter had mostly done that.

Roman had laughed when she told him that he left chaos wherever he went. He knows what Olivia made him do, but at the end of it all, _he _had gotten Letha pregnant. His sister. Letha had been his sister. Roman had gotten his sister pregnant with a baby that killed her. Then he killed that baby. Chaos. Chaos everywhere.

And what for? So he could spend months convincing himself that he could fall in love with Miranda? That somehow she replace the void Letha left behind? It was pathetic. It only brought chaos. Fighting with Peter, fighting with Emma, fighting with himself.

It all leads back to Roman. Roman and his mother. Maybe he wasn't so different from her after all.

Emma leaves quietly while he dissolves into self-pity. She tells herself that he just needs time to process. She knows what that feels like. But, there isn't time for him to waste. The cult had to know about Nadia. If they deemed her a lost cause it would only a be matter of time before they came for Emma.

.....

Once Finn is sure of the address they make a plan to go scope it out. Well, Finn makes a plan and she insists on coming along. He's as human as she is after all. Then Peter wants to come because they're both humans. It's early morning on a weekday when they decide to take the drive out. It's a little over an hour away in the middle of nowhere.

They're prepared for a proper stakeout. Thermoses filled with coffee sit in the cup holders, Finn has a camouflage disguise for them, two binoculars, and a camera with an obnoxiously long lens. Even though the circumstances were grim, Emma's kind of excited for it. Finn, while trying to deter her from coming, tells her that it's a lot of sitting in the silence and doing nothing. He has no idea how appealing that sounds.

They made a plan to park on a back road and then hike a short bit down the mountain. Finn says it shouldn't be too hard to find a good spot with a view looking over the small farmhouse. He had found a few photos on a realtor website but was largely in the black of what to expect.

Emma had never been this far out into the mountains before. She and Roman had camped a time or two, but it had barely been outside of Hemlock. It's early spring now, but she can imagine what it would look like when the leaves change colors. Hopefully, there's a future where she could come back and go camping or stay in a little cabin. It all depends on how finishing this ends.

Peter looks in his nature during the hike down. So does Finn at that matter, but in a different way. Peter looks rugged and like the kind of guy who could build his own house with the trees around him.

It only takes around 20 minutes to see the tin roof poke out between the trees. A few feet further and they can see the whole house. A white van is parked in the driveway, behind it is another car. A Lamborghini. Her first thought isn't about him being here, it's about how _fucking Roman Godfrey_ it is of him to drive a Lamborghini to a place where he's going to kill people.

"Stay here," Peter orders before he runs forward. Finn, of course, doesn't listen.

"Stay here," he calls back to Emma. She almost does as he says, but sees two stray men run from the backdoor and towards an ATV. She'll be goddamned if she stays out here for them to find her like a sitting duck. Emma takes off to catch up behind Finn, who is still following behind Peter. The blind leading the blind.

Peter outruns them and is getting quite close to the slower of the cultist. The faster one looks over his shoulder and begins shooting in Peter's direction. He misses but it deters Peter. From behind, Finn shoots back in their directions and hits one of their shoulders. Peter stops running towards them when they make it to their vehicle. Emma, still yards behind, sees his body shake and tremble.

"Peter! Stop!" She yells to him, but it's too late. She keeps running towards him. Finn grabs her before she can get past him. His wolf form rips from his human body and races in the direction the vehicle had gone. A distinct white stripe runs down the back of his dark fur.

"That's bad," Finn says. "That is very bad." Emma doesn't stick around to hear the last part of that. She's turned around and running to the house's back door. How many had there been left? If it was anything like it had been back at his house she's sure Roman has been hurt.

The first step inside has her slipping and grabbing onto a counter. The kitchen's old linoleum floor has a pool of blood slowing spreading. The cabinets didn't escape the splash zone and it looks like a massacre has taken place. A massacre had taken place. The body of a man lays on one side of the floor with the remained of his throat on the other.

The noises of fighting ring down from the ceiling above her. Then a loud and tortured scream. Emma runs upstairs and hopes that she won't find Roman dead. A trail of blood leads her to a raggedy bedroom with a dresser as the only piece of furniture. A few mattresses are laying on the floor and a large cross hanging above each one.

Roman stands in the middle of it all. The body of a man still struggling to breathe lays at his feet. He looks at her as she comes in. "Hi."

"I thought you weren't coming?" She asks. It sounds like she's surprised to see him at a party, not in a safe house with dead bodies around him. Roman's entire button up in stained with blood. He uses his sleeve to wipe off his mouth before speaking.

"I changed my mind."

"How did you find the place?"

"You guys have been using my house like a goddamn Wework." She tries to remember any sign of his coming and going from the house but can't. She had thought he was still at the mansion.

"Oh," is all she says back.

"It was a pretty small group."

"Peter-" she says suddenly. "Peter chased after two that got out the back."

"Chased?" Roman asks. "He didn't-"

"He did," Emma confirms his fear. At this rate, any change could be his last. Roman takes off downstairs and out the back door. She chases after him. "What are you going to do if you find him?"

"I don't know!" Roman yells back.

They can see in the treelike a large dark mass move towards them. It's slow and they're halfway almost there when it emerges into the light. Finn is helping a nude Peter walk forward. Peter stumbles and struggles to hold himself up. Finn's shirt is torn and a still bleeding would is visible.

Roman rushes towards them to grab a hold of Peter's other side. They get him to the back porch where Emma emerges with a blanket pulled from one of the dead cult members' beds. Roman wraps it around his shivering friend and waits for him to speak. "I'm okay," Peter assures him.

"What were you thinking?" Roman scolds him. He doesn't sound angry, though. He sounds worried.

"I couldn't let them get away."

"You should have," Roman mumbles and sits down. He pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it. He hands it to Peter who eagerly accepts.

"I'm sorry about that, man," Peter says to Finn after a long drag.

"Don't mention it."

"What happened?" Emma asks.

"Our friend, Finn, knows the secret to turning back quickly," he explains. "He took a scratch in the process."

"Are you okay?" Emma asks, approaching him. She looks at his wound and winces. It's wide and raw looking. The bleeding has slowed but not stopped. "You need stitches. It's going to get infected."

"I know," he whispers back. He doesn't want Peter to feel bad for him. Injuries come with the job. Roman seems to notice, though. He stands from next to Peter and joins.

"Where's Destiny?" He asks. "He needs her."

"She was supposed to be here-" Emma starts.

"Can you take him to her?" He asks Finn. He doesn't wait for an answer. Roman thinks quickly and confidently. He hadn't thought through what he would do after he was done. He'd been relying on impulse, but there were others involved now. "Get him to Destiny, then go to the tower. Pryce can stitch you up and then grab a van."

"Okay," Finn agrees.

"We'll load up the bodies and burn it down," Roman concludes.

"Can you make the drive?" Emma asks and actually waits for Finn to answer.

"Yeah," he assures her. "I've had worse."

"I can go get the car," Emma offers. He's in no state to make the hike back up.

"Just take mine," Roman offers. "There's no time. We can get yours when you get back."

The two men help load Peter into the passenger seat and buckle him in. Finn nervously takes the keys. He's never drove a car this expensive. Scratch that- he's never used anything this expensive. Roman doesn't bat an eyelash at the thought of lending his car to a man that up until now he had been skeptical of.

While Roman moves bodies, Emma looks through the cults belonging. She finds a few files of kids with their speculated species. Some of the species she'd never heard of before. She makes a note to ask Finn when he gets back. Most of the files are thin, but one thick one sticks out. It's marked **HIGH RISK**. She grabs it and flips it open.

Inside are pages filled with photos of her. Some were from her child hood- probably pulled from her mom's Facebook. The more recent ones grew creepier and creepier. They started with school photos and photos she'd posted. Then there were photos of her at college. Walking around campus, in the library, at the dining hall, and more walking around campus. All of them are at odd angles from the photographer hiding from her.

Then there's her class schedule and a 'social' schedule. It's a list of where she had come and gone for almost a month straight. _Dining hall- 6:30 PM, Showers- 8:00 PM, KGT house party- 11:00 PM. _It's followed by a detailed map of her steps. She glances at all of them and keeps going.

There's a list of her friends and a bit of their information. Then there's a page about her mom, and a whopping 5 pages dedicated to the Godfrey family. Only one is dedicated to the Rumnaceks. Behind them is a spreadsheet with the names of any partners she had and what sexual acts had taken place. Liza probably heard from their friends some of them, but there was no way she knew about most of them. Everyone from high school, Jonah and Jesse, even Finn is on there.

Emma wants to take a break from looking but can't pry herself away. She had known people were watching her but she played it off. How long had they been watching her? Her high school years are incredibly detailed down to her old class schedules. They describe her personality, her clothing style. They have her doctor's notes. _The flu, Sinusitis, Sexual Assault, Hospital Visit- concussion, Hospital visit- broken arm... _

She had known people were watching her but she played it off.

Roman's hand landing on her shoulder makes her jump. "What are you looking at?" He asks.

"My entire life," she says numbly. "My entire life printed out on paper." Roman takes it from her hands and flips through it before putting it back where it came from.

"That's not your whole life," he says and turns her to look at him. "They neglected to mention how much of a pain in my ass you have been." Emma laughs sadly. A light bubble irrupts and a couple of tears fall out with her laughter. She lets him hug her for the first time in months.

"I'm sure that's in there somewhere."

"Well," Roman says smugly. "They're all dead now, so no one will know about you being right all the time. I have a reputation to uphold."

"I'm just glad this bit is over."

"Me too," he says. "The last thing I need while I'm searching for her is to worry about these fuckers killing you."

"You did this for me," she says as she realizes it.

"When you say it like that it doesn't sound so good." He drops his arms. "And making sure they don't find her first is part of it but-"

"You killed these people for me." Roman grimaces awkwardly and shrugs.

"It sounds like the world's worst present." He waits for her to tell him how stupid that is but she doesn't.

"This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me." Roman quirks his head. Even he finds that odd- and he had killed them.

Emma kisses him first. It's a weird and foreign feeling. That's mostly because Roman doesn't react right away, but also because up until 5 days ago she thought he might actually stick it out with Miranda. If for no other reason than to spite. That leaves a bad taste in her mouth- or maybe it's the leftover blood on Roman's mouth. It doesn't really matter.

Everything that should matter doesn't. Roman had killed several people that morning, he had fed from them. His shirt is stiff from dried blood. Until about an hour ago, a dead body had been in the middle of the floor- not too far from where they are laying now. A decent amount of his blood still lingers around them. It doesn't matter. If anything, the feral nature of it is a turn on.

She'd judge herself later, or maybe she won't. It doesn't matter. What matters is how she feels right now. She doesn't feel like herself, but she let's it take over. Emma had never expected having some kill for you could be so attractive.

The sticky, lukewarm, liquid quickly seeps into the back of her shirt. It clings to her hair and weighs it down. Roman grips at it tighter. She reaches her hand up to cup his face. The forgotten blood staining it sticks to Roman's cheek. When he notices its existence on her other hand, he can't help himself and licks it all.

Roman's never behaved like this in front of someone he wasn't going to kill. This was a side of him that he hated and wanted to get rid of. It made him see how animalistic he really was. Like a shrike putting on a show and the skewering up prey for a mate. Both are hunters and agonistic creatures.

Emma does have the decency to move somewhere not covered in blood. Clothes come off quickly enough to only do minimal damage to the white bedding. She hates herself for thinking about Miranda during this time. Sure, Roman has had sex with a lot of people. Probably more than he could remember off the top of his head. She wasn't bothered by that. 

Maybe it's all the death around her, or it's something else deep in her, but she kind of wishes Miranda hadn't been caught by Spivak. Or maybe she didn't jump with Nadia. Or that she had killed her instead. It causes conflicting emotions within her. What kind of person would wish that kind of thing? Sure Miranda had been annoying, but she had never caused her any real harm. Emma doesn't fight it too hard. After what she had done to Roman- to Nadia- she doesn't care what happens to her. Emma's only fear is that if they find her alive Roman will forgive her. She doesn't think that's what would happen, but Roman had been unpredictable. If they find her alive she'll return the favor.

She tries to last as long as possible, but it's in vain. Roman's not far behind. She releases her grip from his shoulder and lats her arm relax on the bed. Her hand drops over the bed just far enough for her fingertips to graze the wet ground. It's clear now. She had known this whole time that Olivia picked her because she knew about her future. That was the very reason the cult had been following her. Emma had spent the whole time thinking she was cursed, but it's not her that's the problem- it's him. It's not that _any child she had would be born with a caul _it's that any child she would have would be Roman's.

****This probably goes without saying but don't bang in blood. Just don't. **Here's some NSFW gifs for your viewing pleasure**

**:**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hi!!!! Last real chapter up next will be a lil epilogue. Thank you all for being patient with me! This was a big boy and there's still a lot left to be wrapped up. I promise that in the epilogue you'll get some more answers.
> 
> Much love and as always comments and likes are greatly appreciated  
E


	32. Epilogue

"Are you leaving?" Emma asks even though the answer is obvious. The suitcase on the bed is already neatly organized. The door to Finn's room had been wide open and she had let herself in.

"Job's done," Finn smiles meekly. He places a pair of shoes, soles up, then zips the suitcase around it. "On to the next."

"Where's up next?"

"First, I'm going back to DC. I'm sure my apartment needs a good dusting. I have a couple of leads on a new case, but nothing solid yet."

"Well," Emma says and claps her hands together. "I wish you the best of luck." Finn lifts the suitcase and sets it down on its wheels. He grabs his backpack

"Look," Finn says and bites his lip awkwardly. "I- I did what you asked me." Emma looks at him questioningly. "I found some information about your dad."

"Oh," she says. She had forgotten about that in the mix of everything. His voice doesn't sound good or bad. What could have happened? Was he dead? Is that what Olivia meant when she said 'got rid of him?'

"Here," Finn says as he grabs a fine off the desk. He hands it to her. "It's up to you if you want to read it." She takes it and hesitates before opening it.

Inside there are copies of legal documents and photos. There's a deed to a house with his name and a woman that is not her mom. "It says he started his job in Cleveland 10 years ago," Emma notices. "Where was he before that?"

"He was here."

"Here?" He nods. "As in Hemlock Grove?"

"Yes."

"What was he doing here?"

"He still worked at Hemlock Acres as an insurance administrator. Worked his way up and got a better offer in Cleveland," Finn explains. "Did you not already know this?" Emma shakes her head. "Your parents weren't legally divorced until he was getting ready to move."

"My mom knew?"

"I-uh- I don't know. I would assume so," Finn says awkwardly. "Everything that I could find is in there."

"Did anything lead back to Roman's mom?"

"Not on paper. That's all I have access to... just paper trails. If you want anything more than that I'd suggest you get yourself a private investigator." Emma stands there silently and watches him return to packing. "Let me know if you have any more weird cults show up. This was definitely one of my more interesting cases."

"I will," Emma says with a small wave.

.......

When Emma comes back to Roman's it's dark out. She barges in and heads straight to the kitchen. She'd left behind the paper's from Finn in her car, not wanting to think about them. Peter is sitting on the couch with the TV on, dressed in pajamas. She ignores his greetings from the couch in favor of a half-empty bottle from Roman's liquor cabinet. "Where's Roman?" She asks then wipes her mouth off and pours a glass.

"He's upstairs working."

"On what?"

"No idea," Peter says. Emma comes forward and takes a seat on the couch.

"What are you doing?"

"Learning about aliens," he says and motions to the TV. "Ancient ones to be specific."

"Do you mind if I join?"

"Not at all." Peter grabs the remote to turn the volume up but pauses. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay," she says. That's exactly what she is right now, just okay. "You?"

"I'm making it." Peter takes a long drink of water. He'd been surprisingly sober throughout all of this. He was, however, going through almost two packs of cigarettes every day. "A lot of things going through my mind."

"Nadia?" She asks despite knowing the answer is yes. "How about Miranda?"

"I don't know," Peter answers honestly. "It's funny, I thought I'd care more. Maybe I'm angry- I don't know. I'm sure you're happy."

"I'm not," Emma says and looks down to the ground. "I'm really not."

"I thought you wanted... _that_?"

"Not like this." How could he even think that she could be happy like this? Yes, he's correct- she'd hoped Miranda would leave, but not like this. She can't determine what feeling is causing a twist in her but she thinks it might be guilt. Emma hadn't physically done anything wrong, but she had hoped for it. And maybe that hope had translated into this. Or, worst of all, something had gone terribly wrong when she coughed up blood that day and the universe had found energy in that to fulfill her wishes.

_That's silly_, she thinks. There is still little proof in what Destiny had warned her. Everything could be summed up to coincidence. Even the vision she saw of the mother and son could have been in her head. There is only one guarantee: if she had succeeded in threatening Miranda into leaving this wouldn't have happened. Or if she had killed her. Roman would never forgive her, and he'd never know what it prevented, but it would have worked.

"I-uh-" she stutters as she pulls away from the thought. "I actually think I'm going to head to bed."

"Really?" He asks. "It's barely 9:00."

"Yeah, it's been a long day," Emma explains but does not attempt to move. She meant to go upstairs, but she can't find the push to use her legs.

"How's Finn?" Peter asks when she doesn't move.

"Good," Emma says. "He's headed back home."

"And his cut?" He feels guilty about it. He barely remembers it. He had been on the edge of returning to his body but hadn't made it yet. All his wolf form could process was that the man in front of him was an enemy.

Peter asked him during the car ride after what had happened. Finn explained that there was no biological reason for him to change then. His wolf form could never fully develop under those conditions. His human body would always be there- _for now_. All Finn had to do was speak to it. It was the second time a friend had risked their safety bringing him back. He had to stop.

"It's going to leave a nasty scar, but I think he won't care. It's like a trophy." She rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, that seems like the kind of guy he is," Peter chuckles. "I wish I'd gotten to know him better."

"For sure," Emma agrees. "He said you seemed nice."

"Did he?" Peter perks up a bit.

"Yeah, he uh- he couldn't understand why girls seem more interested in Roman than you."

"That's such a nice compliment."

"Yeah," she says. "He was a cool dude."

"You're going to miss him," Peter observes.

"I guess so," Emma confirms. "He knows a lot about the things I've been studying- would have been a good resource."

"I'm sure he'd still help you out." She shrugs as a reply. "Oh my god," Peter says with a laugh that borders a giggle. "You did like him, didn't you?"

"I did not," Emma insists and rolls her eyes.

"Roman said you did."

"I didn't," she becomes more defensive.

"Sure."

"And so what if I did?" She asks. "It was nice to have a friend while you two dumb fucks ran around with Miranda."

"Hey!" He says back. "That was all Roman. She would have chosen him had she not..."

"Jumped off a building with a baby?"

"Well, yes," Peter smiles sadly. "But that's when you're supposed to say: no, Peter. She would have chosen you."

"She wouldn't have," Emma quips quickly. "She didn't exactly seem like the _'but he's got a great personality'_ type."

"That's harsh."

"So is jumping off a building with a baby," she counters. "What do you want me to say? It was a 50-50 shot? Because it wasn't. Was it you that I spent a month listening to her fuck? No, it was Roman. So, no, I don't really think you stood a chance." Peter looks down at his hands. "Besides, she jumped off a build with a _baby_. Am I the only one that understands that?"

"No." Peter shakes his head. "I know... It's stupid."

"You're right, it is stupid." Peter doesn't lookup. She feels guilty about having been so harsh but he needed to hear it. "I know you miss Letha and I know you're lonely. But that doesn't mean you should settle for the first person who pays attention to you."

"No offense," Peter starts, truly not meaning to offend. "But I think you're underestimating how much missing her hurts. And just how lonely it really is to have that up and disappear from you. It's just like a whole fucking life you could have- should have had ripped away. It's impossible to describe."

"You're right," she agrees. "I hate to see you settle for less than you deserve. Finn is right, so I thought for sure when you found out the truth you'd let it go. I just want to see you- both of you- with someone who cares about you."

"That's very sweet." Peter crosses his arms and slides down further onto the couch.

"You'll find it someday." Emma reaches over to pat his shoulder. "I really do believe that."

"You too. Which is why," Peter smiles as he grabs her shoulder back. "You should stay in touch with Finn. Just give it a try."

"I did give it a try," she admits with a grimace.

"Really?" He asks intrigued. "And?"

"It did not go well by any standards. I'm a fucking human disaster."

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad."

"I had a seizure and threw up on myself... While he was going down on me." Her face heats up as she watches Peter's jaw drop wide open. "And with that, I'm going to bed." Emma stands from her seat and walks towards the stairs. She can feel Peter's smile as she leaves.

......

Roman had a difficult day. He hasn't been able to see Shelley since that night. She'd been kept under watch and in seclusion. Pryce had told Roman that the trauma and grief had been hard on her- harder than your average person. After all, she is anything but average.

It was hard to for him to accept at first. How could he possibly cause problems by seeing her? He was her brother- she loved him. Then Pryce showed him her behaviors. He warned that Shelley wouldn't be able to process who he was. He would scare her.

"I believe we're making great progress with her," Pryce had assured him. He had stopped by his office at lunch time. Roman had hoped for good news, but, of course, there was none. "I think with time she'll be doing better."

"Better?"

"You know, it was a very traumatic event for her." Pryce frowns. "But she'll pull through. She's tough."

"I know," Roman says with a subtle proud smile. "And uh- what about Emma? Anything come back yet.

"Despite my core beliefs as a scientist... Science can't explain everything."

"What does that mean?"

"I'm not sure about what happened. Her injuries were mostly superficial, but they closely resembled the fatal injuries Prycilla received."

"How is that- What?" Roman blinks quickly as the information jumbles together.

"I can't explain the cause. It could be coincidental, but her reaction mimicked hypovolemic shock- shock from a severe loss of blood. Apart from a bit of coughing, there was no blood loss. If we look past that, and take a more scientific route- I would have to diagnose it as cardiac arrest."

...

Roman's lungs had felt heavy as he paused and looks over the balcony. Sometimes he feels as though he is the only one that remembers Letha. It had been a year since she died, and he still was haunted by it. Why wasn't Peter?

He should have seen this coming for months now. He'd seen Finn coming a million miles away. Her face was an open book and it always gave her away when he was around. Peter? Peter he hadn't seen. It was only a matter of time before she came full circle back to him.

Peter was the real problem, though. He had cheated on Letha while she was alive- this was almost as bad. Sex was meaningless, but emotions bound people. He always thought they'd stick with the former.

Roman had seen through Peter's shoddy story about how she came over to _talk about Chasseur and then left._

_She walked all the way there just to talk about Chasseur? _

_Yeah._

He saw right through it. Peter seemed too short about it and wouldn't look at him. So he had asked her at the party. It's easier to ask her this kind of thing. Peter would get defensive and try to dodge him. Emma, however, would become insecure about it upon questioning.

Now, in his living room, Peter was asking her about some stranger they barely knew. What kind of game was Peter playing?

_"I had a seizure and threw up on myself... While he was going down on me." _This snapped Roman's attention right back. _"And with that, I'm going to bed." _He dodges back into his room before anyone realizes he had been listening.

_....._

She's just turned off the lamp when she hears a gentle knock. "Yeah?" The door creaks open and she can make out Roman's figure blocking the light. "What's up?"

"It's a bit early to go to sleep," he comments.

"It's been a long day." Emma rolls back over and into the covers. She waits for the door to close. It does, but Roman is still on her side of it. There's a shift of weight on the bed where he crawls on.

"Are you still going to go back to school? Now that everything's _safe_?"

"No idea. I don't know what to do," Emma admits. She rolls over and on to her back to avoid looking at him.

"Do you really feel ready to go back?" He asks and waits for an answer. "Maybe you could just take some time..."

"I've taken a lot of time," she mumbles. "A whole semester of time."

"I don't understand the rush."

"Of course you don't," Emma sighs. "You're going to live for like ever. And you're guaranteed your job-"

"You have a guaranteed job too!"

"Roman, I don't do cocaine." He laughs deeply.

"I meant with the institute. You can always work- you know what? I actually take that back, stick with the cocaine thing," he teases. 

"Yeah," she says sarcastically. "Why bother going to school when I could just OD at a party?"

"Do you even like what you do?" He asks growing serious. "Or even know what you want really to do?"

"Does anyone?"

"I know I don't want you to go," he admits quietly. Emma opens her eye to look at him. "But I understand if you do."

"I don't know what I want to do."

"You could stay here," he suggests again. "You help out with finding Nadia... Actually try and take a break for once."

"Maybe."

"I'm sure I could get them to let you do some sort of independent study. You could come to the institute if you want-"

"I don't you to buy my way through things," Emma protests. "I don't have much to offer when it comes to finding Nadia."

"Of course you do!" He argues and hopes she doesn't ask for specifics. "We would have never found the cult without you."

"Without Finn," she corrects him. "All I did was meet him."

Roman lays on his back silently. He stares up at the dark ceiling that seems to be littered with static. Sick of it, he sits up on his elbows. Emma doesn't pay attention, keeping her eyes closed in hopes of ending the conversation. Roman scoots closer and on top of her. One knee on each side, and his elbows keep him propped up. "I know you're awake."

"Ah, you got me," Emma opens and rolls her eyes. "It's hard to sleep with 170 pounds on top of you."

"Strikingly accurate," he responds, impressed. "Hey," he calls when she closes her eyes. 

"You're such a pain in my ass." She opens them again.

"Don't go." Roman's unsure if he's attempting to compel her, or if he's begging. "Please." He adds on.

"Okay," she agrees. There's only a small tingle in his nose, but no blood. Emma's phone vibrates from the side table, but she doesn't reach for it. He glances at the screen and reads the message quickly. _Finn Stewart: Finally back in DC. I'm going to continue asking around for anything that might link back to Nadia. _

Roman is doubtful that he will find anything, and he is even more doubtful that this will be the last he hears of Finn Stewart. That's unacceptable. "I'm not doing enough, he admits to himself. "I should be working."

"You're only able to do so much on your own," Emma counters and reaches up to scratch at his scalp. "You need to find someone who knows more than you do. I hate it- but maybe talk to Olivia?"

"She will be a last resort." Roman presses his head on the crook of her neck. "Only if all other resources run out." She nods in agreement. Some primal force in him leaves him sucking and biting at her skin. It tells him that the more he drank the stronger he would be. He didn't know if that was true.

His weight on top of her makes it difficult to wiggle free. When Roman notices her struggle he sits back up again, dragging himself away from his instincts. Like most things tended to be for them, it was not intended to be sexual but it was taken that way anyway. 

Roman rolls with it, and without meaning to grins his hips against her pelvis. He's not in the mood- or even really enjoying himself. His old habits didn't distract him the way they used to. He'd gone to see two different prostitutes- neither of which held his attention. He'd killed one of their John's and that had been helpful, but only a little. Drugs, alcohol, sex... It all made him feel worse. Anything he was doing other than trying to find Nadia had no purpose.

This had one purpose and that was to prove a point. He was going to fuck Peter's suggestion away. There was no need to try and stay in contact with Finn. There was no reason for him to come back. There was no reason to go back to school. This is where she needed to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this is a real mess, I wanted to publish it before I wasted more time trying to write it.   
Anyways, thank you for reading a sticking around! I hope this is still enjoyable and that the next books is the same.   
Much love to all of you!
> 
> Next book is on my profile!!


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